


Don't Dream It's Over

by yellowwarbler



Category: Justice League & Justice League Unlimited (Cartoons)
Genre: Episode: s02e11-12 A Better World, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-03
Updated: 2020-08-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:34:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25043218
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellowwarbler/pseuds/yellowwarbler
Summary: Lex Luthor's run for the presidency draws the attention of the recently escaped Lord Superman. When Lord Batman comes to retrieve him, only Wally is willing to trust him. That changes things. Lord Batman/Wally West.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne/Wally West
Comments: 44
Kudos: 148





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I got the idea for this reading the Justice Lords arc in the Justice League Beyond and Batman Beyond comics. Very interesting expansion on what happens to the Lords!

Luthor escaped again. 

The press conference aired on every major news network which meant the game Wally intended to watch at the deli down the road from his apartment was cancelled. The first five minutes of it made it on the air, but the pitcher hadn't finished winding up his first pitch when the _breaking news_ banner scrolled across the bottom of the screen. Luthor's face appeared at the steps outside LexCorp headquarters. His lilac suit stood out against the black backdrop. On his lapel, he wore an American flag pin. 

Wally pushed his sandwich away.

He'd been out of jail all of, what, fifteen minutes? Yet he'd managed to kill Wally's afternoon plans _and_ his appetite.

"This is Lois Lane reporting for the Daily Planet in Metropolis. In just a few moments, Lex Luthor is planning to make what he promises will be an exciting announcement." Lois didn't look excited. She looked grim. And intense. Wally only knew of her from Clark, but _he_ thought she hung the moon and all the stars in the sky. Wally figured she was a badass like his Aunt Iris was. 

The camera cut back to Luthor, panning over the flag pin before zooming back out. 

Wally picked at his food. Tuesday afternoons off meant the deli was mostly empty. The elderly couple two tables away didn't pay the television any attention. Wally could have changed the channel.

Luthor smiled at the camera. "I've been looking forward to this day for months. I think the American people will agree." He gestured to the crowd, charisma oozing out of every pore. Wally grabbed a chip and threw it at the screen. It hit its target. "Today I have the pleasure of announcing my run for president of the United States of America--"

"Holy shit." Wally stood, knocking his chair back. " _Holy shit_." 

Luthor kept talking, that smarmy look on his face, but Wally couldn't bring himself to listen. He threw money down on the table and darted out of the deli. He had to get home and contact the watchtower. They probably all knew, but something had to be done. Luthor just got out of prison for crying out loud! And now he was running for the highest office in the nation?

Wally got to his apartment, kicked the door shut behind him, and hit his communicator. "Flash to watchtower. Bring me up."

His apartment flickered and J'onn's face appeared in its place. "Flash," he greeted. "You're not in your uniform."

"No time! This is an emergency!"

"We're already--"

But Wally was halfway across the watchtower before J'onn could finish his sentence.

Wally found Superman and Green Lantern in the canteen, sitting together in silence. He could tell they'd seen the news.

Clark looked up when Wally squeaked to a stop. "I didn't think you bothered with the news."

"I was trying to watch the game," Wally admitted. "What are we gonna do?"

"Do?" John asked. He turned his ring around on his finger, never looking up. "There's nothing we _can_ do. Luthor is well within his rights to run for office."

"He's a murderer!" Wally cried, slamming his palms down on the table. "How many times have we put him in jail!"

"Doesn't matter," Clark said, bitter. "He's never been charged with anything. Nothing ever stuck."

Wally took a seat. His legs felt weak. "You're serious?" He looked at John, then Clark. "We can't intervene? There's nothing we can do?"

"Other than vote against him?" Clark shook his head.

"Batman! What does he think?" Bruce would have an idea. Three steps ahead of the game was his default setting. He'd have seen this coming.

"Who do you think I went to first?" Clark asked. "I'm telling you what he told me."

"Hey, he just announced he was running. He's got to get through the primary, then the election. Running doesn't mean he's going to win," John said. But he was frowning.

"It's _Luthor_ ," Wally said. "Like he's going to let something like democracy get in his way. Plus, we've seen how this ends. You _know_ what's going to happen." 

"Just because the Lords' Luthor won, doesn't mean our universe's Luthor will. We've already changed so much. There's still hope. So we'll do what we always do," Clark said. "Wait for Luthor to cross a line and deal with the fallout."

For once, just _once_ , Wally wanted the League to be the ones a step ahead, wanted to see Luthor fail attempt after attempt. But everything they did just ended right back at the start: Luthor in first place.

He didn't stay at the watchtower long. Couldn't. The atmosphere was too bleak. They hadn't yet made a move, but it already felt like they'd failed. 

Back at home, he turned the television onto cartoons just for the noise. He paced and picked at his food. He worried.

Hope in the process was all he had left.

++++++

The call came just after 11:00. Wally, fresh in from a run around Central City, dropped his ring back in the drawer. When the shrill alarm of his Justice League communicator went off, he slapped his ear, panicking in the three seconds it took him to remember _what_ exactly was making that god-awful noise.

He tapped the communicator once. "Flash here."

"Report to the watchtower,"J'onn said. "We have an emergency."

"Sure thing, J'onn. Give me ten seconds then beam me up." So much for an early night.

Wally grabbed his ring, pressed the top, and released his suit, changing again at superspeed. He had a good five seconds to spare before the room flickered, darkening for a few brief seconds, then taking the form of the watchtower teleportation pad.

"You're the last one." J'onn stepped away from the console. "We're gathering in the hangar. There is little time to spare."

No meeting? So it was an _actual_ emergency, then, and not just Bats throwing his weight around. Wally kept pace with J'onn. "What's this about?"

J'onn walked him directly into the javelin. Wally took a seat, strapping in. Every one of the founders were there, wearing equally grim expressions. Wally, stupidly, could only think about his early shift in the morning. If he was lucky, they'd get back in time for him to take a power nap before drinking one metric fuckton of coffee.

"One hour ago," Superman began as Batman steered the javelin out of the hangar, "we were alerted to odd activity at the Chinese border into Chong-Mai." The small screen at the front console powered on, showing what looked like CCTV footage.

"Yeah?" Wally watched a truck drive across the border. "It's an armored car, sure, but why the 911 call?"

"Chong-Mai's borders have been completely closed for over a decade," Batman said. "And that armored car? It's owned by a man named Victor Linz who works for White Horizons, a shell company for LexCorp."

Green Lantern swore. "He's running for office _and_ smuggling. Why am I not surprised?"

"Smuggling isn't the problem." Superman typed something into the console and the footage changed. The armored car pulled into a train depot. Several men piled out of the car and began unloading what looked like metal caskets. "Those are radioactive. Luthor's either buying nuclear weapons or selling them. I can't decide what's worse. The truck itself is lead-lined. I can't see who's driving or what else they have inside."

"Then the objective is to get the weapons?" Wonder Woman asked. "Can they be stored in the watchtower?"

"This has to be turned in," Green Lantern argued. "If we don't give them to the US military--"

"Aren't we missing something here?" Wally interrupted. "This is our chance! If we can tie this to Luthor, we might be able to put him away for good!"

"We've never tied anything to Luthor. We could catch him riding a nuke naked into Chong-Mai's capitol, and we'd _still_ never tie anything to him!" 

Wally opened his mouth. He closed it. Then, "Hawkgirl, you have _such_ a way with words."

"The goal is to secure the weapons before they can be sold," Batman interrupted before they could get any further off topic. "We'll argue about where to take them once we've managed that."

"Initiating stealth mode," J'onn said. "We're approaching the border."

Technically speaking, they weren't supposed to go anywhere near Chong-Mai. No one was. The United Nations had more sanctions imposed on the country than any other on Earth, and a travel ban was the least of those restrictions. Anything that could be considered military action was pretty high on the list of DO NOT actions. So obviously, not getting caught was the name of the game.

"Approaching the drop point." Batman unbuckled and stood. "Flash, Superman, you're with me. The rest of you wait for my word. We want a quick grab and go here, so keep the light show for another day."

Wally unbuckled and joined Clark, muttering, "He means you, big guy." Clark knocked Wally with his shoulder. Batman turned his attention on them. 

"Get serious. We can't afford to fail here." They got to the drop point, and J'onn opened the hatch. Batman nodded at Superman. "Stay high and keep your eyes on the truck. Flash, keep pace with it, but stay out of sight. J'onn will drop me directly on top of it."

"And then?" Wally asked. The wind whipped around them, and he had to shout to be heard. "We open the back door and just roll them out? Someone's gonna notice, Bats!"

"Trust me," was all Batman said. "Time to jump."

Superman took off first, blasting off into the night sky. Wally watched him go before stepping up, patting his League-issued parachute. He'd never _actually_ used one before. Batman jumped first, dropping onto the truck with practiced ease. Wally squeezed his eyes shut and jumped right after, pulling the chute with enough time to spare before landing on the road, dirt kicking up into the air around him. He withdrew the chute and took off running, keeping pace with the truck.

Chong-Mai was a flat country, and in the dark of the night, with only the moon and stars to guide him, all Wally could see was low to the ground shrubs and a dirt road that travelled all the way to the horizon and beyond. There were no city lights, no buildings. Wally couldn't have guessed where he was or where the nearest human-inhabited building could have been.

Batman was already gone from view, presumably in the armored truck itself, though Wally hadn't seen any doors open. Superman was somewhere above them, though in his stealth suit he was nearly impossible to see against the dark of the sky. All Wally could do was run and wait, relegated to complete silence. 

"Flash, Superman," Batman spoke through the comms. "We were right. Three nuclear warheads, all from the US."

"What's the move?" Superman asked.

"They're not active. I'm going to open the back. Superman, go low and grab them. Get them to the javelin. Flash, get ready to back me up. The driver's haven't spotted us, but there's bound to be some sort of security on the weapons."

"This is pretty low tech for us." Wally got into position, watching Superman fly behind the truck, barely skimming the ground. 

"Sometimes low tech works," was all Bats had to say. "Opening the door. Get ready to catch."

And then the truck stopped.

Superman swerved to avoid hitting it. Wally had to double back, cursing under his breath. Batman went completely silent. Then, "We've been had," he said, grim. "And the warheads just activated."

Superman cursed. "How long?" 

"Forty five seconds. Get the drivers." 

Wally zoomed around and opened the door, only to find there were none. "Empty," he said. "It's being controlled remotely." He zipped to the back of the truck. The doors were open, and Batman and Superman were both in the back.

"I've got to get them out of Earth's orbit, Batman. There's no time!"

Evidently Bats agreed, because he cracked the cases open. An eerie green glow filled the back of the truck. At first, Wally thought it was radiation, like in the movies, but then Superman went crashing out of the truck, dropping to the ground.

"The cases are lined with kryptonite." Batman's voice was flat. "We've been set up. Luthor--"

All Wally saw was Clark on the ground, Bruce on the truck, and three countdowns hitting ten, nine…

"Get into orbit!" Wally shouted into the comms, grabbing Clark and Bruce. The time for thought had passed. Wally ran, the scenery sliding by into a blur of darkness, hundreds upon thousands of miles leaping between them and the warheads in the space of seconds.

He stopped somewhere in China, maybe Russia. Wally dropped Bruce and Clark and turned to stare in Chong-Mai's direction. Three nuclear warheads detonated somewhere in that direction, Wally knew, and the Justice League had been indirectly responsible. 

"Shit," Clark was saying, repeating the word over and over. The word came unnaturally from him, but with all the venom Wally knew he could muster. 

"This was planned from the start. The informant, the lead-lined truck, all of it. We were always intended to find the load, and it was always going to destroy Chong-Mai." Batman didn't move. He'd stood up from where Wally dropped him, but he didn't move, frozen in place by the gravity of what just occurred. 

"Flash to the javelin. Is everyone okay?"

"We're fine," J'onn said. "The same cannot be said for Chong-Mai."

"We were in the middle of nowhere," Wally argued.

"We were only ten miles from the nearest city. That was twelve hundred kilotons." Batman didn't say anything else.

"J'onn is tracking your signal," Diana informed them. "Stay where you are. We need to regroup."

"We need to get to the watchtower and start damage control," Batman said. "This was a strike against the League. Not a physical one. Someone wanted to damage our reputation."

"Luthor." Wally knew it was him. Who else would plan something like that? He'd just announced he was running for president. Discrediting the League had to be a top priority.

"He's done a damn good job of it," Clark said, bitter. "We just helped him murder an entire country's worth of people."

+++++

The news picked up the story and ran with it. _Somehow_ , every major agency had satellite images of the javelin flying over China towards Chong-Mai and the moment they were standing outside the truck. It looked bad. It looked really, _really_ bad.

The League spent three days doing nothing but damage control. At the moment, the world's fear of them was at an all time high. The United Nations demanded they come in for questioning. The Daily Planet, to Clark's eternal disgust, ran a damning soundbite of Luthor decrying the "fascist metahuman regime" and demanding the League answer for their crimes against Chong-Mai.

Wally finally zeta beamed back down to Central when Superman, Wonder Woman, and J'onn headed to the UN Headquarters for an interrogation disguised as a debriefing. 

Four hundred seventy thousand people. Dead.

He stumbled into his apartment. Wally's appetite hadn't returned from Chong-Mai. The television, he knew, would give him none of the mindless comfort he so desperately needed. As a last resort, Wally checked his phone.

Five messages. 

Time had passed. _Days_ had passed, and while the Flash spent every waking moment trying to keep the world from shattering around him, Wally West fell off the radar. Wally might have forgotten about his civilian life, but it certainly hadn't forgotten about him. 

The first three messages were from coworkers, everyone asking where he was. The fourth was from Pam.

"Wally, where are you?" She sounded exhausted. Wally's heart ached. "I've tried, I really have, but I can't keep covering for you. Please let me know you're okay. I did what I could."

The fifth message was from the lab supervisor. Wally's hand shook where it gripped the phone. "West, it's Al. It's been three days. I'm sorry, kid, but three no shows? With your history of absences? Stop by the station and turn your key card in. You're done."

"End of recording," his voicemail informed him. Wally hung up. He put down the phone.

Fired. Again. Like the grocery store and the garage. Being the Flash was everything, _meant_ everything. His civilian life always fell behind, work just as much as his love life or remembering to put the trash out. But the lab. He'd loved the lab, not out of any real affinity for the work, but because of what it symbolized.

Barry worked for the CCPD when he was alive. He'd loved it, too, told Wally stories all the time. He'd had a real passion for it. Wally saw the opening for a lab technician and hadn't been able to stop himself. Walking through those halls felt like walking at Barry's side again. 

Wally went to his bedroom and climbed under the sheets. His phone started to ring again. He let it. His League communicator was in his ear. Anything important would come through there. Wally closed his eyes. He didn't want to be awake any more.

+++++++

The League communicator buzzed him awake after several fitful hours of sleep. The meeting with the UN was over. Everyone safely returned to the watchtower. Wally listened to the League-wide report from Beetle, not certain what he expected. The UN couldn't exactly imprison any of them even if the whole assembly unanimously voted that the League was responsible. That was the entire point. There was no real way to hold the League accountable. Public opinion followed the sway of the press, of whatever politician yelled loudest. After the next crisis, one the public depended on the League to save them from, opinion would shift again. It all felt meaningless.

He hadn't looked at any of the news out of Central. Had, in fact, pointedly avoided it. Wally knew the Flash was front and center in a lot of the satellite images. His city knew he was there. Wally didn't think he could handle disappointing anyone else.

The transmission ended. The League was more or less stuck in limbo. The UN's decision kept them barred from missions not directly coming from the UN until the Chong-Mai disaster had been fully investigated. The likelihood of the League actually following through with that was slim at best. Since expanding, they had literally hundreds of heroes in their ranks, located throughout the world. Some of them would go independent again. 

Wally rolled out of bed, exhausted again from the simple act of thinking, of spinning the what-ifs around and around until all he could see was the worst end. He needed to get out of his apartment, but Wally West's life wasn't one he was excited to live right then. The Flash was still persona non grata. 

In the living room, his phone rang again. He zipped in and checked the caller ID: Clark Kent. "Hello?"

"Wally, hey." Clark sounded as tired as Wally felt. Several people spoke in the background, obscured by the sound of movement. "You doing okay?"

Wally went to the kitchen and opened the fridge. "I should be asking you that."

"Not really an answer," Clark pointed out. "Come over to my place? I have food. A _lot_ of food. We could watch the game."

"I don't have to watch it to know Metropolis is going to crush Detroit." Wally's fridge was basically empty save for two mustard containers, some expired deli meat, and a loaf of bread. He'd meant to go shopping before--before. "Yeah, sure, I'll come."

"Great, come on by. Lois says she's tired of me stewing in my own misery." Ah, so that was Lois in the background.

"Probably a fair assessment." Wally cracked a smile. Clark undoubtedly felt the sting of their failure more than anyone else. He usually did. 

"See you in ten?"

"Seconds?" Clark laughed and hung up.

Showering and dressing at top speed, Wally ran to Metropolis and phased through Clark's front door. When he appeared beside Clark on the couch, Clark handed him a beer. "I know these do about as much for you as they do for me, but I figured you could use a beer anyway."

"I've never been drunk," Wally admitted. "I never bothered to try drinking." He took a swig of the beer and made a face. Alcohol was too much money for not enough calories. Wally's limited food budget required more careful planning. It occurred to him that his food budget was about to be even more limited. Wally took another drink.

"Me neither," Clark said. The pre-game show was on, a low him in the background. "Look, I wanted to see how you're doing. I know this hit you hard."

"So this is an intervention?" Wally asked. John came walking out of the kitchen with a bag of chips, which he promptly dropped on Wally's lap before settling into the recliner. "Wow, this really _is_ an intervention!"

"Wouldn't need to be if you'd answered your phone," John pointed out.

"I had my communicator in!"

"That's for League business," Clark said. "This is personal. So Wally--how are you holding up?"

All at once, Wally deflated. Things were spectacularly shitty, but he didn't want to say it. He didn't want to admit he couldn't hold a job or remember to do any of the necessary tasks required to live a functional adult life. He didn't want to be the kid. "I'm bummed," he said. "This _sucks_."

John hummed. "Ain't that the truth."

"It was Luthor, right?" Wally looked at Clark. "He's such a _dick_ \--"

"That's what I said!" Lois called from somewhere in the apartment.

"Office," Clark said. "She's working on an investigative piece for what actually happened in Chong-Mai."

"With a man on the inside, I'm guessing?" Wally waggled his eyebrows at Clark.

"Oh no," Lois said, walking out of the office, laptop in hand. "Superman's not even getting a soundbite. There's only one man people want to hear from."

"Lois." Clark gave her a look, shaking his head. Lois pointedly ignored him, stepping over Clark's leg and sitting down between him and Wally, leaving Wally scrambling to the far end of the couch to avoid getting a pointy elbow in his ribs.

"The Flash was on the scene, but no one's seen or heard from him since it happened. The UN stopped just short of demanding his presence at the hearing." 

Wally actually hadn't known that. It never occurred to him anyone would want to speak to him. 

" _Lois_."

Lois waved Clark off. "If I could speak to the Flash, I could sway the public in the League's favor." She drummed her fingers on her laptop.

"You're a very intense lady," Wally informed her. She raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow and said nothing. "I don't think anything I say would help."

"Couldn't hurt at this point," John said. "But if you don't want to, don't do it. You didn't do anything wrong, kid. Don't feel like you have to."

"But that's just it! He didn't do anything wrong, and he's _not_ a child. The Flash made the call to leave the scene. People want to know _why_."

Wally's stomach turned. He held his beer clutched tight between his hands, focusing on the cold. Lois was right. Wally _knew_ she was right.

"Lois, we talked about this," Clark said. "That is _not_ why I asked Wally here."

Lois put her laptop on Clark's lap and grabbed Wally's hand. "I'm sorry, Wally. I know. I _know_. But this isn't going away. If you're not ready now, then call me. Any time. I'm on your side."

"Yeah." Wally enjoyed Lois' hand squeezing his, the feeling of someone supporting him. She was intense and a _lot_ to deal with at once, but she reminded him of Iris. He couldn't be mad at someone like her. "Give me some time. I'll--I'll call." 

She squeezed his hand one last time before letting go. "Thank you, Wally." She sat back and grabbed her laptop, flipping it open. "Now wasn't Detroit about to crush Metropolis?"

"They were _not_!" Clark took the bait hoot, line, and sinker. Lois winked at Wally. "Detroit might as well not show up!"

"Keep dreaming, Smallville."

++++++

Life went on. Wally turned his work badge in and collected his final pay. His bank account continued to shrink. He managed to pull together his rent and utilities for the next month, but his food budget became a far away dream. 

He'd avoided going to the watchtower during the mission ban, but given the state of his kitchen, Wally had no choice. He was _so_ hungry.

The zeta beam brought him directly to the transport room. Supergirl and Mister Terrific were running transport requests for the current shift. Wally barely managed a hello before speeding to the mess hall. 

The usual bustling hall was nearly empty, quiet like it had been before Batman went wild with his recruitment drive. The Question was sitting at the far corner table with a little styrofoam coffee cup, a newspaper spread out in front of him that he studiously marked with a pen. He paid Wally no mind, save for a single glance, so Wally figured he'd return the favor. 

Eating at the watchtower used to be fun. Wally thought of it like a super exclusive club. He earned the excellent food he ate there. But as he piled his tray high, the feeling sitting in his stomach like a stone was closer to shame. He hadn't earned it, hadn't done anything to help the League. He couldn't even do an interview with Lois, and she was probably the only reporter on Earth who cared about the League. Wally started eating, trying not to look like he was making up all the calories he'd missed over the last few days, but once he started he couldn't seem to stop.

So, of course, Batman showed up.

Wally ignored him. Obviously Batman knew Wally knew he was there. The man didn't miss a thing. But Wally kind of figured Bats wouldn't bother him because he'd want to be alone, same as Wally. 

Wally was wrong.

"You haven't been on the watchtower in nearly a month," Batman said. He'd grabbed a water for himself. Wally didn't think he'd ever seen him eat before.

"No," Wally said, cautious. He just wanted to eat, no questions. Just a meal. 

Batman nodded. "You've handled the situation well."

Well? Wally was a _mess_. What part of it was good? "Thanks."

"We don't need to rely on the press," Batman continued, though his attention was focused on Wally's plate. "We're an autonomous organization, no matter what anyone," Wally assumed he meant Clark, "says. The mistake we made was allowing the UN to fund us."

"Hindsight is twenty-twenty, I guess." Wally had a feeling he wasn't going to eat anymore.

"This is a setback, not an end, Flash. What happened in Chong-Mai is a piece of a bigger picture."

It clicked. Batman was giving him a peptalk. A really, truly _awful_ peptalk, but it was an effort he didn't usually go through with for people. Wally smiled, unable to stop himself. "Yeah. Thanks, Bats."

Batman regarded him for a long moment. Wally felt the intensity of having that focus on him like a physical touch. "You made the right call, Flash," Batman said at last. "Not the easy one. But you did what you could. Thank you."

Wally hadn't thought of it that way. Clark could have survived the blast but not Batman. Batman would have died. Wally saved Batman. "I'd do it again," he said honestly. Wally felt the flush creeping across the bridge of his nose, only partially obscured by the cowl. Not a good time for his weird Batman fixation to rear its ugly head.

Batman didn't notice his internal struggle. He nodded and left, sweeping out of the hall with the sort of drama only Batman could pull off. Wally stared after him. When he looked away from the space where Batman stood, he made eye contact with the Question who stared unreservedly back.

"Fascinating," said the Question.

"Oh, shut up," Wally groused. 

He didn't linger on the watchtower, stopping briefly by Shayera's room to leave a handwritten note about how much he missed her and to call him. The only person worse about answering their civilian phone than Wally was Shayera. 

When he got earthside again and back to his apartment, it was to his phone ringing. Wally nearly dropped it in his haste to answer, certain it would be Shayera's voice on the other end.

It was not.

"Oh, hey dad." Wally stood, frozen, in the middle of his living room.

"It's been a while," his dad said. "How have you been, son?"

"Um, fine. You know, just busy." God. Really? He should have hung up. Wally knew it as sure as he knew he'd listen to anything his dad said so long as he was actually speaking to Wally.

"I'd imagine so, what with that cock-up in Asia." His dad's voice was the same deep rumble he remembered from childhood. There were good memories from then, memories Wally held close and sacred. "Luthor's having a hell of a time cleaning that up."

"What does Luthor have to do with it?" A million things shot through Wally's mind, from the knowledge they were tiptoeing around a very big secret on an unsecured line to the way his father sounded approving of a megalomanic murderer who'd made Wally's life miserable in _multiple universes_. 

"He's a shoe-in to win the election," his father said. "And he'll clean up all the crap that Justice League--"

"So were you calling to chat?" Wally cut him off. "How's mom? She okay?"

"She's the same as she was yesterday," his dad said like Wally had spoken to her in the last year. "A nervous wreck. Listen, sport," oh shit, he called Wally sport, mayday, "I need to make some repairs on the house. I'm in the red, here."

It always came down to money, didn't it? "I'm sorry, dad. I lost my job. I don't even have rent for next month." The words shot out of Wally before he could stop himself. He hadn't told anyone. Why did the first person have to be his father?

" _Another_ job? You lost another one? Don't ask me for any handouts, Wallace. You need to learn to handle yourself. Unbelievable!"

Wally felt so off-kilter he couldn't think of a response. He didn't ask for shit. He didn't want anything."I have to go," he said slowly. He hung up before his dad could say anything.

Their first conversation in six months. The only constancy was the utter trainwreck the two of them made whenever they crossed paths. 

Wally tossed the phone, not looking to see where it fell. He wouldn't be rushing to answer it again. 

Rudy West felt like something out of another life, something separate from the man Wally became. The phone call was an invasion. Wally squeezed his eyes shut, overwhelmed by the childhood desperation for Barry and Iris, for the shelter of their arms. He'd take anyone right then. If Batman came crawling in through his window, Wally would have grabbed him and held on like he was a lifeline, just like Barry used to be. It was a sick feeling, that low desire to be cared for in a way he didn't quite understand, even as an adult.

The phone rang again. Wally kicked it under the couch and turned on his heel, yanking the door open and letting his feet carry them wherever they wanted to go.

He went to the cemetery.

Barry and Iris had two small headstones on an overcrowded plot. His grandfather paid for the markers, did the best he could for them. Wally visited more when he was younger. The older he got, the more impossible the loss became to bear. 

Wally sat down on the grass and brushed the dirt off the markers, tracing the aged grooves. "It's been a while," he said. "I'm sorry. Guess I've just been busy." He laughed, a bleak sound that echoed in the air. "Things aren't going so well, Uncle Barry."

The silent solitude of the cemetery soothed Wally. He could pretend for the moment Chong-Mai never happened, his father never called. He still had his job and wasn't one foot out the door toward homelessness. He could just...be.

When Wally's communicator went off, he almost didn't notice it. He'd forgotten he was wearing it. The buzzing grew louder the longer he ignored it. Finally, though reluctant to leave the moment, he tapped the communicator. "Flash here."

"This is a League-wide alert," Mister Terrific said. "LexCorp HQ is under attack by person or persons unknown. All available personnel are requested. Order came down from Superman."

Oh hell. There it was, the first violation against the UN. To protect Lex Luthor's building. Wally wanted to ask how they knew this wasn't another setup, because Wally didn't look forward to getting burnt a second time. But LexCorp was an enormous building with thousands of employees, innocent people, inside. One man wasn't worth losing that many. Not again. 

"This is Flash. I'm heading to Metropolis now." He pushed the release on his ring and spun into his suit before running at top speed. 

A number of heroes were already on the scene. Wally stopped next to Superman as he touched down, lowering a bus packed with civilians to safety. "What's the situation?"

"Wish I knew," Superman said. "Whoever it is, they're attacking the building and the people inside it, and they're doing it too fast for me to focus on finding them."

"Tell me what you need."

"I'll take the civilians. Flash, find this guy. The moment you have eyes on him, take him down."

"Where's Luthor?"

Superman nodded at a cluster of men in suits about a block away. "In the safe zone. This guy isn't Luthor's biggest fan though. They won't let him get any further than that."

Wally ran up the side of the building, stopping on top and taking a look around. He didn't see anyone, couldn't tell what way the damage came from. Whoever they were, they weren't making a move. Wally moved to run down the other side of the building when something flew at him out of nowhere.

"Shit!" Wally barely dodged, catching the whipping end of a white cape as it passed him. He whirled around and found himself faced with lasers bearing down on him. He took off down the building, but his attacker pursued. Wally tried to lead him away from the crowd below, but having to avoid civilians slowed him down. A vice grip closed around his calf, and suddenly he crashed through the wall, slamming through layers of glass and cement and rolling to a stop amidst the ruined wreckage of an office.

Pushing himself up on his hands and knees, Wally felt the solid wright of a boot smashing into his ribcage. He went careening into the wall, cracking it. Dust clouded around him. 

"I hope you didn't think this was over." Footsteps approaching. Wally wheezed against the pain in his side. A hand tangled in his hair, forcing his body half off the ground.

Lord Superman stood above him, expression set with a deep loathing Wally couldn't reconcile with Clark's face. 

"Can't be," Wally choked out. He grabbed Lord Superman's wrist. "You're--"

"In jail? Powerless?" He laughed. "Luthor forgot to mention his ray's effects were temporary. Now I'm going to finish the job I should've done in my universe."

He threw Wally out of the building. Wally went into a free fall, the ground racing up to meet him, but Lord Superman caught him by the ankle a foot from impact.

"Flash!" Supergirl moved to attack, but Superman cut her off. 

Wally spat a mouthful of blood and called out, "Found him, guys." No one laughed. Tough crowd.

"Impossible," Superman said. "You're powerless. You can't be here."

"Wrong on both counts. And I'm right where I need to be." His grip on Wally's ankle tightened, the bones beneath creaking. Wally bit back a cry.

"Let him go." Batman? Wally tried to turn his head, but he couldn't move like he wanted. Everything hurt. 

"No. I owe you all. Remember? Turning my Batman against me? Imprisoning me?" He dropped Wally, who hit the ground with a solid thud. His skull hit first. The pain intensified suddenly, disorienting him. When his vision cleared, Lord Superman had him by the throat, holding him in the air. "I remember what he looked like when Luthor was done with him. The hole in his head. Damn near blew the back off. You should have seen it." He sounded conversational, pleasant even, like he was recounting a good memory. "Heat vision isn't exactly like a shotgun, but I bet I could manage a close approximation."

"Stop it! You don't have to do this!" Superman took a step forward but froze when Lord Superman's eyes glowed red.

"You're right." Lord Superman's eyes returned to normal. He looked at Wally consideringly. " _I_ don't." The world around Wally spun. He definitely had a concussion because when things stilled, Wally pitched over and vomited. Lord Superman shook him violently. "It really does have more of an impact coming from you," he said. Wally tried to refocus his eyes, head lolling to the side. Luthor. Lord Superman was talking to Luthor.

"Are you just going to stand there?" Luthor shouted over his shoulder at the League members circling them. 

"They are. That's what they do. Hesitate and get their team killed." 

There was a gun in Luthor's hand. How? Where from? Everything felt slow and jumbled, the pieces slipping through Wally's fingers as he tried to make sense of them. 

Lord Superman dropped Wally onto his knees, yanking his head back by his hair. "Shoot him, Luthor. You'll end up here anyway. Just _shoot him_."

Luthor aimed but didn't shoot. He kept looking back over his shoulder at Superman. He was waiting to be saved, Wally realized. Well, he could join the club.

Wally watched Luthor, the trembling of his hand, the flat expression. Then Luthor's eyes went wide.

Something rammed into Lord Superman, sending Wally crashing to the ground. Chaos exploded around him, screaming, fighting, the sound of buildings shaking. Wally couldn't seem to pull himself up, and when someone grabbed him, he fought instinctively to escape.

"Enough, that's enough." A gruff voice, soothing, soft. Arms cradling Wally, pulling him close. "You're safe. I'm sorry I took so long."

Wally's eyes took an eternity to focus. A black mass was all he could see at first, the picture slowly coming together. It was Batman, yet not. The suit was black, green lines running haphazardly over it toward the glowing green bat symbol on his chest. Wally reached up, his fingers skimming across that familiar cowled face.

Lord Batman, he realized. "Oh," Wally said, voice quiet with wonder. "It's you." 

"You're safe," Lord Batman said as darkness crept in from the edges of Wally's vision. Then he knew no more.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments and kudos! I really appreciate it <3

_I hope you didn't think this was over._

Wally's eyes snapped open. He sat up with a gasp, choking on the air, pain lancing up his side to his chest. Hands pressed him back, gentle, and Wally looked wildly around the room until his brain started processing the sight. He was on the watchtower. He was with Shayera. 

"Breathe, Wally," Shayera urged, "slowly. Your lung collapsed. You're still healing."

Oh, so he was. He hadn't noticed the oxygen mask at first or the IV lines. "Huh. I usually heal fast." He spoke slowly, pulling the words with such difficulty it was like dragging them out of a tarpit. 

"A Kryptonian just beat your ass up and down three blocks of Metropolis. It's going to take even you a few days to come back from that one." Shayera readjusted his mask and checked the port in his arm. The bags under her eyes were swollen and dark, her face pale. "You scared me," she said after a long silence. Shayera held his hand.

"Sorry, Shay." Wally felt too weak to do more than smile at her. "How long have I been out?"

"Three days. Doctor Mid-Nite kept you under so you wouldn't aggravate your injuries, but you weren't healing fast enough. Your metabolism started burning muscle and organ tissue to compensate for the lack of food. The IV line here running into that wall? It's hooked up to enough bags to keep everyone on the watchtower going for three months."

Holy shit. "I must have been bad off…."

"You were nearly dead," Shayera snapped. "I've never been so scared in my life!"

Wally, too. He could still picture the look on Lord Superman's face, the twisted expression of hatred. Wally couldn't think of anyone who'd ever looked at him like that before. "He came here to kill me. _Specifically_ me. One dead Flash wasn't enough. What's happening, Shayera?"

"The other Batman showed up in time to save you. Remember that?" she asked. Wally nodded. As if he'd ever forget. "He showed up in some suped-up kryptonite suit. He managed to drive Lord Superman off, but we have no idea where he went. Clark's guess is the fortress."

Wally inhaled sharply, then broke into a coughing fit, rolling onto his side. Shayera rubbed his back, making quiet _shhh_ sounds as she kept Wally on his side. When the worst of the coughing ended, she readjusted the oxygen mask and checked his levels. 

"You're improving," she said, relieved. "The internal damage should be healed in the next few hours. I know you hate it, but try not to move around. Let your body do its thing."

"Where's Batman?"

"He's monitoring the situation."

"No," Wally said, wincing at the raw wheeze that came out in place of his voice. "The other one."

"You mean Lord Batman." Shayera stopped her fussing and sat back, but her wings flared, expressing everything her blank face did not. 

"It doesn't seem fair. He's not a Lord. He _was_ , but he made the right choice. I can't call him a Lord."

"No, Wally. This is one thing you can't let emotion decide. We saw one thing. A year's passed. This could all be another part of the plan to turn us into _them_." 

"Everyone can change," Wally insisted. His energy rapidly dwindling, his eyelids fluttered shut. It was worth arguing about, time and time again. _Anyone_ could change, could make the right choice. Lord Batman was living proof.

When Wally opened his eyes again, Shayera's chair was empty. Doctor Mid-Nite stood at the bedside, Wally's arm raised as he removed the IV. "You're awake! Excellent. How do you feel?"

"Tired," Wally said. "Mouth tastes like ass."

Mid-Nite handed him a glass of water. Wally tossed it back like a shot, draining the glass in one go. "You've been out of it for a week now. You're fully healed, but between the lung and the cranial swelling, I thought it best to keep you sedated."

Wally waited until Mid-Nite finished removing the various lines and sensors before sitting up and sliding off the bed. "Man, I'm starving! Thanks for fixing me up, Doc, but mind if I get out of here?"

"No, in fact I'd encourage it. Get to the mess hall and eat everything you can get your hands on. That metabolism of yours deserves a break."

_That_ was an order Wally could get behind. 

In stark contrast to the last time he'd been on the watchtower, the mess hall was packed. Heroes he hadn't seen in weeks were on board. Wally zipped into the hall, grabbed a mountain of food, doctor's orders, and appeared at a table next to Vixen and Green Lantern. John startled, his coffee splattering across the table and his uniform. "Wally! Damn it!" Then he realized who was actually sitting next to him. "Wally!" He grabbed Wally with one arm and dragged him closer. "Kid! You're awake!"

"Ow, yes, _John_ , let go!" Wally squirmed out of John's grip. He was out of uniform, still in the sweats and loose tee-shirt medical had put him in. 

"It's good to see you up," Mari said. "Everyone was worried. You took a hell of a beating."

Wally nodded, stuffed a bite of a burger in his mouth, and made an agreeing sound. John shook his head.

"Good to know you're back to normal," John said, dry.

Wally swallowed. "So what's with the crowd? I thought everyone pretty much scattered after, you know…"

"They had. Now, after the Lords coming back, and that disaster at LexCorp, everyone's hiding out here. The UN hasn't ruled on if we violated their previous ruling."

"Lords, plural?" Wally thought Lord Superman was the only one. If they all came--

"Yeah, that nutjob Superman and his Batman."

"That Batman saved me," Wally pointed out. "He's not a Lord, not anymore. He's on our side."

"You can't know that, kid. You just can't. We have to play it smart--"

Wally slammed a hand down on the table and jabbed a finger at John's chest. "Twice! He's saved our asses _twice_! There's nothing complicated about it, John!"

John held his hands up. "Don't make it personal, Wally. Trust me, I get it. You think I don't want to believe the Lords can come back from what they did? But it's not just you or me at risk here. It's the entire League, the entire _world_. Taking stupid risks based on a hunch gets people killed."

Before the righteous indignation could really get its hooks in Wally, Mari picked up his fork, got a chunk of cake, and held it in front of him. Wally ate it without thinking. "Wally is still recovering," Mari said, looking at John. Her eyebrows were arched up toward her hairline. Not a good sign for John. "So we're _not_ going to cause him unnecessary distress, are we?"

John looked heavenward and sighed. "No," he said. "We're not."

"So where is he?" Wally didn't take Mari's advice. He needed to know. 

"Wally--"

"John, come on. I'm begging here, man! Is he up here? Tell me we didn't, like, hand him over to the feds or something." 

"He's on the watchtower," John conceded gruffly, "on the containment level where he has agreed to stay until the League decides how to handle this."

Wally didn't get it. What could there possibly be to decide? The other Batman came to save him, to save Wally. He came to stop Lord Superman. So the League should be working _with_ him, not sticking him in a cell. But Wally knew better than to say that. He let Mari turn the topic to something safer and focused on devouring the food in front of him. Other heroes drifted by to check on Wally, though the other founders were nowhere to be seen. Probably off making big decisions without Wally _who was also a founder, thank you very much_.

Eventually the crowd dispersed and Wally feigned exhaustion. He let John walk him to his room and then doubled back to the elevator. The containment level was on the third sub-basement, deep enough in the watchtower that a person couldn't accidentally stumble across it. If someone ended up there, it was because they wanted to be there. And Wally? Most definitely wanted.

Orion was on duty. Wally didn't really get Orion, but he was a good guy, albeit a total stick in the mud. He didn't question Wally's right to be down there, just buzzed him in. 

There weren't any other occupied containment units. The watchtower rarely kept prisoners. If anything, it was like a holding cell before transfer. Most of the bad guys ended up in Belle Reve. 

The other Batman didn't look up when Wally approached the cell, a ten by ten room with a bed and toilet, the walls white and the door made of a transparent energy field. 

"Hey, Bats," Wally said. Batman looked up and froze. Wally realized his face was still bare, his uniform in shreds in a garbage somewhere.

"W--Flash. You're all right." 

"You can call me Wally. Everyone does." Wally dropped to the floor and sat down. Bizarrely, Batman did the same, sitting down right in front of the clear door.

"Then call me Bruce." Bruce lifted a hand as though to press it to the door but hesitated, letting it fall to his lap. He pulled back the cowl. "It's good to see you. I was concerned."

It was weird, calling him Bruce. Wally couldn't bring himself to call his Batman Bruce. "Your suit is different," he blurted. Fuck, he didn't have a clue what to say to the guy.

"I gave it to the League. They'll need to study the specs to replicate it."

"The green glowy stuff, that was kryptonite?"

Bruce grimaced. "Yes, almost impossible to come by in my world and even more difficult to work with. I never had the opportunity to test it."

"So you just… showed up and hoped for the best?" Bruce winged it? The entire rescue mission? 

"I ran out of time. Waiting any longer would have gotten you killed," Bruce pointed out. "Sometimes winging it is all we can do."

He looked older than the Bruce Wayne of Wally's world. Wally could see the gray beginning to feather in at his temples, the lines setting in at the corners of his eyes. Was there such a difference in their universes? Or was this Bruce aging quicker beneath the weight of his burden? "Thank you. For saving me."

"I couldn't fail you a second time."

Wally didn't know how to address that. He wondered if Bruce understood Wally was a completely different person than the Flash that died in Bruce's universe. "More importantly, I'm sorry you're stuck in here. I'll talk to the League. There's no way I'm letting them keep you locked up!"

"The League made the correct decision. They don't have any proof I'm not working under Lord Superman's orders." 

Wally scoffed. He leaned back, resting his weight on his hands with his legs out in front of him. " _I_ trust you. That should be enough for them."

A loud buzzing sound echoed through the level. Wally looked over his shoulder and saw Superman leading a put-out Orion his way. Damn. 

"Wally."

"Supes." Wally looked back at Bruce and shrugged. Bruce's cowl was already back in place, and he was standing. Wally climbed to his feet and tried not to let the stern look on Clark's face make him feel like a five year old. 

"Come on. No one should be down here."

Which meant _someone_ was monitoring the containment level. Wally would put his money on Batman. He probably even waited until Wally and Bruce's conversation started to wind down before calling Clark in. "My access wasn't blocked."

Clark hooked his arm in Wally's and frog-marched him back to the elevator. "You know that's not what I meant," he said. "No one is supposed to be interacting with Lord Batman. Not until we have more information."

Wally shook free of Clark's grip, moving to the other side of the elevator. "And how exactly are you getting more information? Because where I'm standing, the situation is pretty freaking clear." He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Lord Batman agreed to a mental sweep by J'onn. Four impartial senior League members will witness."

"I want in."

"Did you miss where I said _impartial_?"

Wally hit the access code for the main level. "And you're going to be there? Bats?"

"Impartial, Wally. None of the founders are taking part. Green Arrow is leading." 

Okay, that… that wouldn't be so bad. The mechanical _whirrrrrr_ of the lift as it shot them back up the length of the watchtower filled the silence between them. Wally knew he was taking this too personally, knew he needed to back off, but he also knew Bruce was as innocent as the rest of them. He was there to help, damn it, and the League stuck him in a cell! 

"I know how you feel, Wally." Clark's big hand fell on his shoulder. "Seeing that version of me, what he did to you… this _is_ personal, no matter what anyone else says. But we can't go in blind. If Lord Batman is telling the truth, J'onn will prove it. We'll let him out. We just have to know."

He didn't need to spell it out. Wally knew an evil and potentially unhinged Superman and Batman was like the ultimate nightmare combination. The League wouldn't survive it. But the all too human part of Wally couldn't think of anything but Bruce's worn down expression and the way the fluorescent lights of the cell made him look older, weak. He didn't want that for Bruce, for any version of the man.

"I trust you," was all he could tell Clark. The same thing he told Bruce. With any luck, Wally would really be as good a judge of character as he thought he was.

+++++

The United Nations remained unimpressed with the Justice League, but public opinion, fickle thing that it was, leaned toward commending the League's decision to act in Metropolis. Not even Luthor could fault them, though he made sure to remark upon how the incident wouldn't have happened in the first place without the League.

The verdict? The UN officially put them on the job of solving the Lord Superman problem. Like they weren't going to do it anyway.

As the days rolled on by, Wally's mounting frustration peaked. Bruce still hadn't been vetted by J'onn. Apparently finding an impartial set of witnesses required J'onn and Oliver to individually vet the witnesses as well. Everything moved so slow that Wally felt like he might as well have been standing still. He couldn't imagine what Bruce felt like, trapped in that cell with not a soul in sight.

Wally made it three days before he snuck back down.

"You shouldn't be down here," Bruce greeted him. His cowl was already off, his hair a greasy mess. Wally grimaced. That couldn't be fun, wearing the same suit and not even having the privilege of bathing for days on end.

Wally pushed his cowl off, wanting to be on even ground. Bruce's face fascinated him, the openness of it. He could hardly reconcile the sheer amount of emotion he could read from Bruce, the way he held his mouth, the look in his eyes, with the Batman currently arguing with the other founders on the uppermost floor of the watchtower. "Like _that's_ ever stopped me. How are you holding up?"

One of Bruce's eyebrows arched up. "I'm fine, Wally. Have you healed?"

Waving his concern off, Wally dropped down on the floor again and made himself comfortable. "Yep, I'm back to one hundred percent! Good as new. I don't even wheeze when I laugh anymore." The temporarily reduced lung capacity was what annoyed Wally the most. Once that resolved itself, he couldn't even remember what the pain felt like. One of the many perks of his speed.

Bruce sat on the bed that stuck out from the wall. "I doubt you have more than a few minutes before someone comes to get you. Not that I don't appreciate the company. No one else has been down here."

Wally's stomach turned at the idea of such severe isolation. "Then we'd better make the most of it," he said, trying to stay light. "Look, you don't have to answer this--"

"Just ask, Wally."

"How did he get here? The other Superman? What happened?" Wally said it so fast he had to repeat himself. He probably wasn't supposed to ask that. Hell, he wasn't supposed to be talking to Bruce at _all_ , let alone about the Lords.

"It's...complicated. Superman and the other Lords were in captivity for six months before I realized anything was wrong."

"Wrong, like…"

"Like Superman's strength starting to return. At first I thought it was the solar radiation, so I moved him to a cell underground with no windows and suspended his outdoor privileges. None of the others showed any signs of regaining their powers, so I wrote it off as a fluke." Bruce smiled, bitter. "I was wrong. The ray Luthor used wore off. Superman escaped. He didn't resurface at first, so I focused my time between monitoring the satellites for any sign of him and building the kryptonite suit. A portion of Wayne Enterprises was rerouted into finding a sustainable kryptonite source."

Wally listened, entranced. He could see the guilt written into every line of Bruce's face. That was one thing both Batmans had in common. "What happened? Did he break the other Lords out?"

Bruce shook his head. "The others are still secure. Superman showed up on radar eventually. But it was a false lead. When I went to investigate, he broke into the cave and used the portal tech to come here. I had to follow him. I knew exactly what he had in mind."

"Which was...killing me?" 

"Not exactly. Revenge, plain and simple. Clark isn't firing off all cylinders anymore. I can guess what he might do next, but he's not as predictable as he once was."

"A problem we're well aware of." 

Wally jumped. He hadn't heard the door buzz anyone in, hadn't even heard the footsteps. Yet there Batman was, standing barely a foot behind him. He didn't even glance at Wally. Bruce met his stare without flinching. 

"Then I hope you're better prepared than I was."

"We will be." Batman looked down at Wally and jerked his chin toward the door. Wally scrambled up.

"Later, Bruce," Wally said with a wave, trying to ignore the way Batman flinched at the sound of his name.

Bruce raised a hand but remained silent. Wally had to force himself to look away. His mood dipped at the thought of leaving Bruce in that solitary cell. It wasn't _right_. They were the Justice League. What the hell were they doing locking a man away like that? Hadn't Bruce said even the Lords got outdoor privileges?

"I hope you know what you're doing." 

Wally glanced at Batman, then continued frowning at the wall. "Don't I always?"

"No."

"I get that he's a prisoner, but someone's bringing him food, right? Give the guy access to the showers! And some new clothes! You act like throwing him into the deepest, darkest hole the League can find is best practices for criminal containment!"

"He's me, Flash. I know what he's capable of," Batman said sharply. "This is why you've been left out of the loop. He's _too dangerous_. Until he's been vetted, he stays down there. Alone." Batman waited until the lift brought them back to the main floor before speaking again. "Your access to the sub-basements has been temporarily suspended."

"Bats, seriously?" Wally sped out of the lift before Batman could, getting in his face. "You don't get it!"

"I get that you're overly emotional and have a tendency to attach yourself to anyone who shows even the slightest interest." Batman stepped around Wally and continued calmly down the corridor. 

"Bats--"

"Conversation over, Flash." Batman turned a corner and disappeared from sight.

Wally's body vibrated. How _dare_ he? Who gave him the fucking right? The Justice League was supposed to be a team! Wally took off running, zipping through the watchtower and looping the same path over and over. He wanted to run until the weight of what he felt vanished, evaporating from his skin like sweat. He wanted to knock Batman's head into the wall a few good times. He wanted someone to _listen_.

By the time he finally gave up, Wally's stomach hurt from hunger. Sweat soaked his suit. His legs shook. 

He did _not_ feel better.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" 

Wally looked up at Shayera from where he'd sat down on the floor, his back propped up against the wall. "Not morning?" he guessed.

She held out a hand and yanked him to his feet. "It's almost midnight. I was getting ready to wake Clark up and demand he catch you. You've been running for hours." She pulled him along, her hand in his, a wing curled protectively around him. "Ugh, you _reek_."

Wally pulled his hand away and wrapped an arm around Shayera's shoulder. She shrieked and slapped him with her wing. "You are disgusting!" They shoved at each other a few times before Shayera got Wally in a headlock. 

"Uncle," Wally gasped, shoving at her arms. "Uncle, you brute!"

Shayera relented, then shoved him down the hall. "Get walking, hotshot."

"Where are we going?" Wally was tired, _so tired_. He wanted to eat, shower, and pass out, not necessarily in that order. 

"Slumber party," Shayera insisted. "Girl talk."

"Are we gonna have a pillow fight in our underwear?"

"Don't be an idiot," Shayera said, putting in her access code. "I'd murder you."

Shayera's room was Wally's favorite place on the watchtower. Her bed was enormous and soft, and she had all kinds of neat things pinned to her walls, maps and pictures and the different notes Wally left for her over the years. It radiated safety and comfort and home.

"Take a shower," she ordered. "I already have clothes for you. And don't speed through it! I'm grabbing food from the mess. Take your time for once in your life."

Wally rolled his eyes but did as instructed. The bathrooms were identical in all the suites. Wally forced himself to strip and step under the water at normal speed, groaning when the hot water hit his tired muscles. Wally stood and let it run over him, eyes closed. He nearly fell asleep standing up. Shayera pounding on the door kicked him into motion again.

"I thought I was going to have to go in there after you," Shayera said when Wally finally came out of the bathroom. She smirked at his clothes. "Cute."

"You said they were _my_ clothes!" They weren't. Shayera laughed. 

"No, but you look awfully cute in yoga pants." Shayera's yoga pants, to be specific. The shirt was plain white and way too big to be Wally's. It was probably John's.

The desk was spread with every snack food Shayera could get her hands on. Wally ate standing up, the hunger pangs finally starting to subside.

"I heard you've been snooping."

"Who ratted me out?" Ten bucks said it was Batman.

"J'onn. But Clark told him."

"Clark's a gossipy old woman," Wally complained. He polished off the last donut. "Batman caught me this time."

"That must have been awkward."

"Why would it be?" Wally dusted his shirt off. Shayera held the covers up, and he hit the lights and climbed in next to her, maneuvering himself so his back pressed to her chest. Shayera curled an arm around Wally's waist. 

"Your thing," she said. "Your Batman thing."

Wally closed his eyes, glad for the darkness. He could feel himself going red. "I'm never telling him about that, and you've been sworn to secrecy. It's only awkward if he finds out."

"Which one of them?"

"Either! Both! Stop asking me hard questions!"

Shayera chuckled against the back of his neck. "I know you, Wally. And I don't want to see you hurt."

"In our line of work--"

"You know damn well what I mean."

Wally went quiet. Then, "It's just a feeling. Not something I'll ever admit to. It'll go away eventually."

"Just promise me something, okay? Promise me you know they're two different people. Don't go looking for something in the other one that you can't find in this universe."

"I promise." Wally's voice was barely a whisper. Shayera tightened her arms around him, her wings ruffling before going still. 

He knew the difference between them. He _did_. Wally wagered he knew better than anyone in any universe that Batman and the Bruce sitting in that cell had very few things in common.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much the comments and kudos! I love seeing them <3

Wally didn't speak to Batman for another three days. 

Either of them, though his separation from Bruce was enforced. Giving Batman the cold shoulder was strictly for Wally's own petty enjoyment.

The downside was he didn't know Bruce was getting the telepathic third degree in front of a committee of senior Leaguers until the whole damn thing was over. He couldn't believe it. He'd spent the entire day channel surfing in Shayera's room, watching shitty soundbites of Luthor talking about the "meta problem". He'd actually mentioned the Flash by name at one point. Wally wanted to throw up.

When Shayera came back with the news, he was _sure_ he was going to throw up.

"Why are you panicking?" Shayera demanded, exasperated. "You got what you wanted! Lord Batman is officially on the League's payroll!"

"He _is_ the payroll!" Wally shouted back. He didn't know why he was shouting. He was just mad.

"You're conflating your Batmans!" Shayera growled. Then she stopped and made a cutting motion with her hand. "Okay, that's enough of that. You need to get out of here."

"I thought we were stuck here," Wally said dully, flopping back in the bed.

"Non-meta members of the League were encouraged to stay for their own safety," she corrected him. "You're going stir crazy, Wally. Go _home_."

He didn't want to go home. What point was there? Empty fridge, bills piling up… Wally would rather be literally anywhere else. "I'm going to see Bruce."

"You can't."

"I thought you said he was cleared!"

"He is, but he's already in talks with Batman and Superman. They're working on a strategy for dealing with the Lords."

"Lord, singular."

"If one of them got out, the others are bound to follow. We can't get caught off guard again."

"So why aren't the rest of us involved? Not cool enough for the secret meeting?" 

"You _hate_ tactical meetings," Shayera reminded him, sitting next to him on the bed. "You said you'd rather eat your own legs."

"I was exaggerating. _Obviously_."

He could tell her, Wally realized. He could tell Shayera about what happened to his job, about all the money he didn't have. She'd listen to him. Wally _wanted_ someone to listen, but he couldn't get the words out. His worries sank to the bottom of his stomach like a stone, a weight he thought he'd never be free of. Wally said his goodbyes and zeta beamed back to Central. 

Being back on the streets in broad daylight felt good. Wally ran a few laps, allowing himself to be seen, before rounding back to his apartment. He phased through the door and spun out of his suit and into normal clothes in the space of seconds before collapsing into his couch. He hadn't realized how stifled he'd felt up in the watchtower. Shayera was right. He _did_ need to stretch his legs.

But even with that taste of freedom, Wally found himself withdrawing again. He turned on the Central City news for a minute or two and saw they were running a story on his return to the streets. A picture of the remains of Chong-Mai cut across the screen. Wally turned the television off.

Another day passed. He didn't hear from Bruce, not that Wally knew how Bruce would contact him. But the League itself was quiet, no broadcasts, no mission assignments. Wally didn't even change clothes or shower until after he'd been home for two days. 

Then Lois texted him. _Ready to talk?_

Wally sighed. _Any chance you've got my apartment bugged?_

_Not my style_ , she wrote back. She ended the message with a bat emoji. Cute.

Wally didn't want to talk about Chong-Mai, but he did want some company. _Promise to take it easy on me?_

_Scout's honor_ , Lois texted back. Wally was ninety nine percent sure she'd never been a scout. He was _so_ going to regret this.

_Be there in ten?_

_Lunch is on me!_

Wally took half an hour to get to Metropolis. At least twenty five of those minutes went to pacing indecisively. He didn't have to go through with the interview. Lois was pushy, sure, but she was Wally's friend now. She wouldn't actually force the issue if Wally really said no and meant it.

"It's not like you haven't been here before," Lois pointed out when Wally dropped onto her sofa, leg bouncing so fast the remote nearly vibrated off the coffee table.

"The press makes me nervous!" It was a recent issue. Wally used to love being on camera. 

Lois scooted closer and put her hand on Wally's knee, stilling his vibrating leg. "Let's start with something simple. Mind if I take a picture?" When Wally shook his head, Lois hooked an arm around his shoulders and drew him in close, snapping a picture of them on her phone. "Proof you were here," she explained, putting the phone on the table and setting it to record. "You in particular are a difficult guy to pin down."

"I get nervous."

"I can see that." Lois pulled her laptop back out and began typing. What, Wally couldn't guess, because he had yet to say anything newsworthy. "You went MIA immediately after the destruction of Chong-Mai. Some people say that's as good as an admission of guilt."

Wally's leg started vibrating again. "The Justice League was cleared by the UN."

"Public opinion doesn't agree. Did the League pressure the UN into declaring them free of any wrongdoing in exchange for help against Lord Superman?"

She really wasn't pulling her punches. "There was no pressure from the League. Anyway, I wasn't there for any of the UN meetings."

"Where were you?"

"What do you mean?"

Lois didn't move away from Wally. They sat close enough on the sofa their thighs touched. But the sympathy of her touch didn't thaw the cool professionalism in her voice. "It's a fair question. Where did you go after Chong-Mai? You were one of the few League members present for it. Other than Batman, you're the only member not to make a statement."

Something Batman praised Wally for. But even Wally had to admit his immediate move to isolate didn't look good on the whole. "I--" was having a bad day? Was too sick and ashamed to face the world? Wally didn't know where to begin. "I was sleeping," he settled on.

Lois didn't look shocked, exactly, but she didn't look very impressed with his answer either. "You were sleeping? While the world grieved for thousands of deaths? That's what you're going with?"

"I went home and I just--" Wally bit off a frustrated groan. "I didn't want to be awake," he admitted. "I didn't want to see any of it. I saw too much already. I think, for a while, I just didn't want to exist."

"That's a pretty heavy admission," Lois commented. "Are you saying you were suicidal?"

"No," Wally denied, shaking his head. "I just couldn't deal with it. The whole thing, all those people, were pawns in one man's plans to make the Justice League out to be the bad guys. He killed an entire country of people."

"And you have proof of this?" Lois pressed. "Who was he?"

"Lex Luthor," Wally replied without hesitation. "And sure we do, not that it ever makes a difference."

Lois finally started to look excited. She'd been leading him to that admission since Wally sat down. But before she could ask a follow up question, Wally's communicator buzzed. A League-wide alert went out: "This is Martian Manhunter. Lord Superman is currently attacking the Chong-Mai embassy in DC. Be advised, he is wearing Superman's uniform. All available personnel, report. I repeat--"

"Shit," Wally bit out. "Sorry, Lois. I gotta run."

From the way Lois' face drained of color, she'd heard J'onn. "Go," she urged. "There's time for this later. Go get him!"

Wally ran.

Smoking rubble was all that Lord Superman left behind, crumbling around what was left of the narrow two storey embassy. Chong-Mai's flag, charred and still burning, hung off the gate now crushed into the door that had been blasted off its hinges. Wally didn't stop to look over the remains. He processed the damage in a fraction of a second before running into the building and checking for survivors. He found two bodies and brought them out, grateful when he slowed down enough to feel the steady pulses. 

"He's gone already." 

Wally turned from handing off the injured civilians. "He's been looking into us," Wally said. "He knows Chong-Mai is a sore spot. And he attacked in _your_ uniform."

Clark's eyes tracked the movements of the first responders flooding the streets around them. A frown tugged at his lips, his brow furrowed. "He's definitely in the fortress. The computer has access to everything the watchtower does. Batman cut the access as soon as we figured it out, but I don't think he was fast enough."

"He wasn't."

The voice startled Wally. He jerked around and nearly ran into Batman. The suit belonged to his world's Batman, but something told him that wasn't the case. "Br--Batman. Other Batman, right?" Wally caught Clark looking oddly at him, but he ignored Clark. 

Batman's mouth quirked up, an answer in and of itself. "You're more observant than I'd thought."

"I have an eye for detail," Wally said, haughty. 

"That hasn't been my experience."

"Whose side are you on?!"

Batman chuckled. Clark looked between them, then settled his gaze on Wally. "I'm going to help," Clark said. "I need all the good PR I can get. You two shouldn't stick around. If Flash can tell you're not our Batman, the other Lord definitely can."

The press started arriving. Wally shied away from the cameras and lights. He could tell when a crowd was hostile, and this one was on fire. Watching Clark drift away, heedless of the jeering, left him feeling small. Cowardly. 

A hand fell on his shoulder and pulled his attention from the crowd. "He's right," Bruce said. "The less we're in the public eye, the better. You're an even bigger target than I am."

Wally didn't think so, but he didn't feel like sticking around to find out for sure, either. "Guess we better get out of here. I'm heading back to my place. I'm going to order, like, twelve pizzas and crash. Want in?" It was the sort of offer he'd carelessly passed on to any number of Leaguers over the years. Shayera could be counted on to join him, Clark occasionally, and one memorable night Booster and Beetle showed up two hours later without having even been present for the invite. Generally speaking, Wally expected a no.

So when Bruce said, "Sure," completely casual, Wally figured he could be excused for choking on his own spit.

Coughing fit over, Wally said, "Oh, wow, yeah, okay?" He couldn't remember the last time he'd cleaned his living room. His fridge was empty. The mail was still piled up by the front door where he left it, two-thirds of the envelopes reading FINAL NOTICE on the fronts. Thank God for super speed. "Meet you there? It's---"

"I know where," Bruce said.

Well.

Wally ran back home and frantically cleaned, stuffing the mail into his sock drawer. He changed back into jeans and a faded gray tee-shirt. All of that took him about ten seconds, so he had another twenty minutes to panic before Bruce actually showed up.

When he _did_ finally arrive, Wally could barely keep himself still. He opened the door and allowed in a man in a dark hoodie, his face obscured. Bruce dropped the hood when Wally closed the door. His hair was unkempt like it was in the cell but clean. He looked younger now. "I was told there would be pizza," Bruce said. His voice was flat. He looked around Wally's apartment as though it was exactly what he expected. Maybe it was. Wally wondered if Bruce ever went to his universe's Flash's home. He wondered if they were friends.

"I haven't ordered it yet," Wally said, oddly defensive. He didn't know why, but he felt like this was a test. He was determined not to fail.

Bruce gestured at Wally's phone on the counter, like _what are you waiting for_?

While Wally called it in, he glanced at Bruce in his peripheral. Bruce looked out of place among Wally's belongings, even dressed down as he was. "Forty minutes," Wally said. "Congrats on getting out, by the way."

"I heard you advocated for me."

"Not that it made a difference."

"It did to me," Bruce said. 

Wally wished he had a beer to offer. Anything, actually. He was pretty sure tap water wasn't going to do it. "It wasn't a big deal. Anyone--"

"No one did. Just you." Bruce smiled wryly. "The Justice League aren't my biggest fans."

"Yeah, we have a pretty long collective memory," Wally laughed.

"You must be the forgiving type."

The conversation had a strange undertone to it, a playful energy Wally never got from Batman. Bruce was so much more open. The bar was set pretty low, but seeing any emotion on Bruce's face felt like a rare gift, one Wally had only glimpsed from afar. He'd dreamt about that face so many times that seeing it so at rest and in his home felt like a daydream run wild. He pinched himself and yelped.

"Problem?"

"Not sure," Wally said, still a little dazed. "I'll let you know."

Bruce walked the length of Wally's living room and kitchen in six big steps. He opened the fridge. "You need to go shopping."

"Yeah," Wally laughed again, a nervous edge to it. "I've been meaning to get to that…"

"Any reason why?" Bruce closed the refrigerator. 

"I lost my job," Wally's mouth said of its own accord. 

"Your job." Bruce looked bewildered. "How?"

"You're familiar with what happened at Chong-Mai?"

"Difficult not to be."

"I missed a few days of work," Wally said. He sat down on the couch, feeling heavy, like he couldn't hold himself up a second longer. "I already had a lot of other callouts. Because of, you know," he gestured between them. "The department didn't like that."

"You were a forensic scientist."

Wally laughed. "Yeah, no, I was a crime scene tech. But it was a good job."

Bruce approached but didn't sit. He leaned on the arm of the couch, as though he couldn't bring himself to move closer. "Is the League giving you a supplemental income?"

Elbows on his thighs, Wally leaned down and buried his face in his hands. He shouldn't have said anything. He didn't want anyone to know, least of all Bruce. "No one knows." The words were muffled.

"You haven't told anyone?" The couch sagged under Bruce's weight. Through the spaces between his fingers, Wally saw Bruce's feet next to his own. "Good to see your stubbornness is a universal constant."

Wally shot upright. "Like you're one to talk!"

"I really am, aren't I?" Bruce leaned against the couch, watching Wally with something Wally swore was fondness. "If you ask this world's Bruce Wayne, he would find you a job. I'm sure he'd keep it between the two of you if you didn't want the League to know."

"He probably would," Wally admitted. "But we aren't that close. I don't want to take advantage of him just because he has more money than God."

"I don't know. Sounds like a pretty good reason to me."

Of course it did it. Someone that wealthy couldn't understand the unique brand of shame that had plagued Wally his entire adult life. Never having enough food, relying on the help of others to scrape by, it all ate at him. A voice that sounded entirely too like his father followed the feeling, reminding him of how far he had to go to fill Barry's shoes. "You're a lot different from this Bruce."

"Not that different," Bruce said. He didn't elaborate.

The pizzas arrived a short time later, bringing an end to an increasingly confusing conversation. Bruce beat him to the door and paid with an AMEX that said Knute Brody. He tipped three hundred percent. 

"Where the hell did you get that?" Wally demanded. So much for treating Bruce.

"Borrowed it off a friend," Bruce said. "Take your pizzas."

Wally took all ten boxes, balanced them precariously on his outstretched arms, and headed for the kitchen. "I told you I'd buy."

"No you didn't."

"Well I invited you! Common sense says that I treat!"

"Actually--"

"You don't have to pity me! I didn't tell you so you'd do that!" He didn't know why the hell he thought this Bruce was different. He was just as ready to walk all over Wally, to decide he knew what was best. He dropped the stack of pizzas on the counter and crossed his arms over his chest.

" _Wally_." Bruce grabbed his arms. He stared Wally down until Wally dragged his eyes off the floor and looked at Bruce. "I'm sorry."

"You are?" Wally's indignation fizzled out. 

"I shouldn't have assumed." Bruce let him go but didn't step away. There was barely a foot between them. "I thought I could help you. This was something I knew I could do. It ...often doesn't occur to me, that my kind of help isn't always wanted."

"I'm not a child," Wally said. "I don't want you to treat me like that. Like I'm someone to manage." He didn't want to hear this Bruce call him "kid". Wally had felt like they were equals when Bruce was in that cell. Now he didn't.

Maybe that said more about Wally than about Bruce.

They ate in silence, standing around the kitchen counter. Wally went through three boxes before he could psych himself up to speaking again. "You said the other Lords were still in prison."

"Yes. There were no signs of their abilities returning."

"What if they did?"

Bruce put down his pizza and grabbed a paper towel, wiping his hands. "It would be a problem."

"You think they'd side with him?"

"It's difficult to say," Bruce admitted. "Diana would, without question. J'onn… he hasn't spoken since he lost his telepathy. Shayera and John could go either way."

"What if they were on _your_ side?" 

"Not possible. What's done is done, Wally. The Lords won't be forgiving me any time soon." 

"I guess not." Wally wondered, though, what it would mean for Bruce if they all got their collective shit together. He wanted to ask who had Bruce's back in his universe, but he was afraid of the answer. 

After dinner, Wally expected Bruce to leave, but he didn't. They talked for hours, about what happened at Chong-Mai, about Luthor's bid for the white house. Bruce listened to Wally's clumsy description of his botched interview with Lois. Night fell. Bruce still didn't leave. Maybe, Wally thought, Bruce didn't have anywhere to go. The watchtower would be his temporary home, but Bruce was the first to admit he didn't have a friend in the League. Maybe Wally's matchbox apartment was the preferable option. 

"I'm going to crash," Wally said after an enormous yawn. "Do you want to stay?"

Bruce didn't say anything at first. He didn't look away from Wally's face. "Would you mind?"

"Nah, you're good company. Take the bed. I'll sleep out here."

"I'm not taking your bed," Bruce said decisively. "I'm fine out here."

"But--"

"Go to bed, Wally."

That didn't stop Wally from bringing Bruce a blanket and pillow. "Are you sure?" He knew from experience how comfortable his couch wasn't. 

"It'll be the best sleep I've had in months," Bruce assured him. "Goodnight, Wally."

Wally took a step back toward his bedroom. "If you say so." Another step. Bruce kicked off his shoes. Wally watched him. He was a terrible host. Bruce pulled off his shirt.

Wally fled to the bedroom.

But tired as he was, Wally couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned and twisted himself in the sheets. Despite the door between them, Wally's awareness of Bruce didn't go away. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Bruce standing in his darkened living room with his shirt off.

When Wally gave up around four in the morning, he opened the door and poked his head out, trying to keep quiet. He didn't want to disturb Bruce. But he shouldn't have bothered. The couch was empty, the blanket left dangling over the back. Wally grabbed it and, after a moment of hesitation, pressed his face to the fabric. It still smelled like Bruce. 

Wally brought it back to bed with him. Unsurprisingly, sleep never came.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the comments and kudos! Sorry for the longer than normal break. Two of my coworkers were out with possible Covid, so work took over my life :( They're both back now though!

Lord Superman continued striking at random over the next few days. The League remained always a step behind. LexCorp's Hub City branch, the US embassy in Brazil, and a number of other seemingly random targets were hit over the following week. And each time, the League arrived to see the damage, Lord Superman long gone. It was maddening.

"If he doesn't have access to the watchtower, how does he know when we're distracted?" Oliver skimmed through the mission assignments that coincided with Lord Superman's attacks. "It's like he knew exactly where to hit that would take us the longest to get to. I'd almost say we have a mole in the League." He threw down the file and looked at Bruce.

"J'onn cleared him," Wally said, hoping to cut that particular shitstorm off before it could start. "And he's been working non-stop with Batman. He doesn't have time to go turncoat on us." He was probably being too sharp with Ollie to really call it keeping the peace, but considering the meeting started with Batman isolating Bruce on the far end of the room and shooting pointed looks at Wally, Wally figured he was doing all right.

"More importantly," Clark cut in, "the public can't seem to tell the difference between me and him. We've got to trash that uniform."

"Would that really make a difference? The fortress could provide him with a new one." Batman brought up a drone view of the fortress. "Unless we stop _him_ , there's no chance of salvaging public opinion."

"Do we really need to be worrying about public opinion? If we don't take care of him, there won't _be_ a public left to hate us." Shayera pointed her mace at the screen. "I say we go to the fortress and kick his ass."

"We're not ready for that. We need a plan." Clark rubbed at his eyes. "I just wish I knew what that should be."

"I've been thinking about that." Bruce's voice grabbed Wally's attention. It was the first time he'd spoken since the meeting started. He took control of the monitor and brought up the schematics for his kryptonite suit. "Lord Superman's most obvious weakness is kryptonite. I developed this suit as a failsafe, but it requires constant resupplying of large quantities of kryptonite. I've been working with this world's Batman and Atom to develop more efficient kryptonite-based weaponry."

Clark's face went pale, but he nodded. "That...would work, I'm pretty sure."

"What then?" Wally asked. "We attack the guy with kryptonite. Putting him in jail hasn't exactly been a rousing success. Are you suggesting something permanent?"

"We're looking into options," Bruce said. He made eye contact with Wally. "But I will admit, I don't see him changing his mind."

When Bruce said _options_ , Wally heard the opposite. They didn't have options, not really. They'd run the gamut of possibilities, and every passing day took with it the time needed to find a solution. "No," Wally said, "I guess that's not going to happen." He wanted it to. Wally wanted to believe anyone could come back from bad choices, even those on scale with Lord Superman's.

The meeting adjourned with no satisfying answer. Wally wondered what options Bruce and the others were exploring. For the first time, he was grateful not to be welcomed into that team. He didn't want to be responsible for hurting any version of Clark, even the one who was hell-bent on killing Wally. 

Unfortunately, there was little time to think about it. Within hours of the meeting, while Wally was trying to catch a nap in his apartment, his communicator went off: a major earthquake, extensive damage, civilians trapped.

Wally didn't hesitate.

++++

Running on shaking ground was no easy feat. Wally snatched another stranded civilian and sped back to the safe zone and dropped them off at one of the medical tents before diving back into the fray. The aftershocks didn't stop. He'd never seen so much damage from an earthquake, buildings shattered, streets torn and jagged. He tried not to think about the people beyond help. Find survivors. That was all he needed to do.

Wally was the first on the scene, but he saw other Leaguers appearing, moving debris, collecting bodies. Wally slowed to a stop by a car trapped under a chunk of stone. He could hear shouting, crying. 

"Need some help over," he said into his comm. "Heavy lifting. I've got some people trapped in a car, possibly kids."

"What can I do?"

"Supes!" Wally sagged with relief. He put a hand on what he could see of the car door. "We're going to get you out, guys. Hold on." The crying didn't stop, but the shouting quieted. "You lift, I'll grab them?"

Superman grabbed the enormous piece of cement weighing the front half of the car down into a gap in the paved road and nodded. "I'll just drop it over there," Superman said, cocking his head toward an empty parking lot. 

Wally got ready to grab. He didn't know what shape the survivors would be in. The driver was almost certainly dead. 

Superman lifted the cement high above his head, and the people trapped inside cheered. Then he slammed it back down on the car, flattening it, the sounds from within cutting off. 

Wally's brain stuttered to a stop. 

"You really are gullible," Superman said, patting the cement like a dog that had done a particularly pleasing trick. "You can't even tell the difference between us? I guess we aren't as close as you thought."

Lord Superman in Clark's uniform looked identical to Clark. Wally's ears rang. He tried to pull his eyes from the flattened piece of metal beneath the cement but everything felt slow, his body and mind dragging along through mud, unable to keep up with the passage of time. 

"You killed them."

"I did," Lord Superman said. 

Wally reached up and activated his comm. "Lord Superman on the--"

The fist came at him, and he barely managed to dodge. Wally urged his body to move, to _fight_. He could hear Batman accusing him of taking every failure too personally. The real Superman came flying out of nowhere and crashed into Lord Superman, the two of them slamming into a pile of debris. 

Wally felt like he was still standing in front of that car, trapped in the same second their cries went silent. 

++++

The fight drew on for an hour, enough time for Lord Superman to destroy whatever remained of the city, killing anyone trapped under the rubble. He disappeared suddenly at the end, as though deciding he'd done enough. 

The mission shifted from collecting survivors to searching for remains.

"Flash, report to watchtower. Your shift is over," J'onn's level voice came through the comms. 

"I should--"

"Report to the watchtower. Zeta beam in three, two…"

Light flashed around Wally. He appeared directly in the medbay. Wally tugged off his cowl, his hair plastered to his head, and sank down to sit on one of the cots. Batman appeared beside him and gave his shoulders a firm shove, sending him sprawling onto his back.

"What the hell, Bats?"

"You're dehydrated," Batman said, opening a port in the wall at the head of the cot and unrolling an IV line. "Get your top off and lay back."

Dazed, Wally struggled out of the top of his suit, leaving it pooled around his waist. Batman didn't wait, immediately manhandling Wally into position on the cot before grabbing his arm. For a moment, just a moment, Wally thought it was actually Bruce, but the way Batman's lips thinned, the tense set of his jaw, the way he was very obviously not saying whatever it was he wanted to--that was all Batman. "I'm okay," Wally said as Batman put the first IV in the crook of his arm. "Really."

"You overdid it. You should have pulled out two hours ago, Flash. I monitor your vital signs--"

"Just mine?"

"All active League members," Batman clarified. He moved to Wally's hand, soothing the skin with his thumb, the material of his gauntlets rough but oddly comforting, before he placed the next IV. "You're the only one in the danger zone."

Wally went limp against the cot, eyes following Batman as he finished attaching the ports and raised the rails on either side of Wally. The medbay was cold, and goosebumps rose on Wally's skin. Batman's hands on him didn't help. "I'm fine, you know. Just tired."

"You're _not_ fine." Batman stood at the bedside. He hardly moved at all, the blank stare of his whiteout lenses fixed on Wally. "I heard about what Lord Superman did. He's deliberately targeting you."

Wally shifted, uneasy. "We already knew that."

"This is personal for him. The other Batman doesn't know why."

Wally thought Bruce probably _did_ , but he was deciding not to be forthcoming. "Again, not really news. He already said he wants me dead."

Batman's hand rested on Wally's wrist. The point of contact between them felt unbearably hot. Wally's face reddened. Without the cowl, he knew Batman saw it, knew Batman could see the effect he had on Wally. Batman didn't let go of his wrist. "You've got to be more careful."

Hope against hope, Wally wished he could see Batman's face, his eyes. He wished he knew if Batman was thinking about the League or if when he asked for Wally to be careful, it went deeper. Wally didn't know what he wanted the answer to be. Hesitantly, he put his free hand over Batman's and tried to ignore the swell of senseless guilt in his heart. "I'll be careful." 

When Batman pulled away and stepped away, like he _needed_ the distance between them, Wally felt oddly relieved. 

++++

"We've got to speed up our timeline. This can't keep happening."

"I don't disagree, but I think you're talking to the wrong guy, Supes." Wally pulled his uniform top back on, pushing the cowl into place with a grimace. He felt _gross_. And hungry. All those IVs ever did was rehydrate him and leave Wally only slightly less starving.

"Actually, I'm not." Clark gave him an apologetic look. "New assignment, hot off the press. The committee working on the Lords issue just called it."

"So this is time sensitive," Wally guessed. "Okay, hit me."

"The research into kryptonite-based weaponry is going well, but the issue lies in the fact that we just don't have access to enough kryptonite. One specific company has that market cornered. I'm giving you three guesses, and the first two don't count."

"Luthor?" Wally groaned. Why was it always Luthor? 

"Bingo."

"Wayne Enterprises really doesn't have any of it?" Wally found that...unusual.

Clark laughed. "Apparently Luthor was too quick on the draw. Batman has some access, though it's mostly through less than legal avenues."

"So Luthor's got it, we need it, and I'm doing what exactly?"

Clark grimaced. "You're stealing it, Wally. As much as you can get."

"That's not really our usual MO." 

"It's not, but we've run out of alternatives, not to mention time. J'onn will go in with you to guide you through setting up the temporary zeta transports. You'll have to move fast. Luthor's security is top-notch. If he catches us, he won't hesitate to use it against us."

"I hate to suggest this, but have we tried _asking_ for the kryptonite? I mean, Lord Superman is sort of Luthor's problem, too."

"That option was voted down."

Huh. Way to go democracy. "When do we leave?" Please let there be time for food and a shower.

"One hour," Clark said. Wally managed not to cheer out loud. "Meet J'onn at the zeta transport deck. This is a stealth mission, Wally. I don't need to remind you how much is riding on this."

No, he didn't. Wally zipped out of the medbay to his room, showered and changed into a new suit, and was sitting in the mess hall about two minutes later. Stealing kryptonite from Lex Luthor was _so_ not how he expected to end his day. 

Considering that the last stealth mission Wally went on was the Chong-Mai disaster, he couldn't say he was excited for another one. _Especially_ a stealth mission tied to Luthor again. 

He and J'onn zeta beamed directly to a LexCorp plant in the Philippines. According to Bruce, who was running comms for the mission, it was the largest kryptonite-mining plant in the world. It's where he got the kryptonite for the suit. Based on the schematics the League got, there weren't any differences between the two universes. 

"J'onn will go in first. We need a location on all personnel present. Once we have that, Flash will go in. Bring the kryptonite out by the case, one at a time. J'onn will coordinate beaming it up to the watchtower. Understood?"

"Got it, Bats. Let's do this."

J'onn phased through the wall of the compound while Wally settled in to wait. They'd managed to find an area in the security system's blind spot to zeta beam in to, and Wally wouldn't be moving again until Bruce gave him the go ahead.

"J'onn is nearly through the complex," Bruce said through the comms about twenty minutes later. "When he comes back, I'll direct you through."

"Is J'onn on this line?"

"No. Just me and you."

Wally's face warmed. "No one on your end?"

"No, Flash. They're still running clean-up from the quake." 

Right. It was hard to believe that was only a few hours ago. "I'm surprised they picked me for this mission."

"The options were very limited," Bruce admitted, "but I put you up as first choice."

"Really?"

"I trust you. In fact, there's no one I trust more than you."

_Holy shit_. If Wally's face was warm before, it was on fire now. "I trust you too," he said, then cleared his throat. "How far away is J'onn?" 

"Arrival in thirty seconds. When he phases back, run immediately." He gave Wally strict guidance about which path to take to the stored kryptonite and back. "Just one crate at a time, Flash. We only have so much room in the blindspot, and the crates are dense enough that trying to beam through too much at once could compromise the zeta system and leave you and J'onn stranded. Take no chances."

"Got it," Wally said, preparing to sprint. "No chances. My specialty."

"I'm not sure I'd agree with that."

Before Wally could reply, J'onn came through the wall, giving him a nod. Wally took off, phasing back into the compound and speeding through to the storage facility at the heart of it. He grabbed a crate, nearly stumbling at the weight of it, before adjusting and returning to the rendezvous point.

J'onn took the crate and attached a device to it. "It will take roughly thirty seconds to beam it to the watchtower."

"Gotcha. I'll try to time it right." 

They repeated the process what must have been a hundred times. Wally lost count, quickly falling into a pattern of movement without much thought. When Bruce finally recalled them to the watchtower, Wally's fatigue had caught up to him.

"I could sleep for days," he said when the transport room materialized around them.

"I can sympathize," J'onn said. "The level of activity we sustained today has been… draining."

Wally slapped J'onn on the back. "At least we made it, am I right?"

"And now, you need to rest," Bruce interrupted. 

Wally hadn't even noticed him by the console. "Rest sounds great. But you sure you don't need anything else?"

Bruce shook his head. In the Batman suit, the cowl firmly in place, it was difficult to tell the difference between Bruce and Batman. The warmth in Bruce's voice was one of the few indicators. "You've earned a break. Take it. And get some food. You look like you're going to collapse."

Wally felt like it, too. "Sure thing, boss man," he said, saluting. 

"Meeting at 0800 hours," Bruce called after him. "We'll be discussing the findings." It was about damn time someone invited Wally to a meeting. 

++++

There was just never any good news, was there?

Wally looked over the schematics grimly. "So this is why he's stockpiling kryptonite like it's going out of style."

The meeting was kept to the founding members, Green Arrow's committee that dealt with the Lords, and Lord Batman himself. Wally couldn't blame Clark and Batman for wanting to keep this hushed up. 

"Luthor's designing a nuclear weapon that utilizes kryptonite," Batman explained. "The radiation would, based on the plans J'onn and Flash found, affect both humans and Kryptonians."

"This can't be a recent development," John said. "Weapons like this take years to develop!"

"I've always been Luthor's target." Clark pushed the file away. "It doesn't surprise me that he's created something like this."

"What kept him from using it at Chong-Mai?" Wally figured killing Clark would have been the icing on the cake.

"That was about discrediting you," Bruce explained. "This," he gestured at the schematics, "is about destruction. I have no doubt he already knows exactly when and where he wants to use it." 

They ended on a disappointing note, but not an unfamiliar one. No one had any answers, and there wasn't anything they could do in the moment. Lord Superman had to be their first priority. 

Lex Luthor would have to wait.

At the end of the meeting, Bruce caught Wally's eye and tilted his head toward the exit. Wally nodded and followed after him. 

"The deeper we go, the worse it gets."

"Are you surprised?" Wally fell into step with Bruce. "This _is_ Luthor we're talking about. You've gone through this once already."

"I haven't. This world is substantially different from my own. The Justice League made different choices. The revelation of the Justice Lords to this world caused all the big players to make different choices. The timeline diverged beyond anything I could predict."

"Maybe you should stop trying to predict it," Wally suggested. Bruce narrowed his eyes at him, but Wally couldn't let the opportunity slide. "Maybe we should try something _unpredictable_."

"Wally--"

"No, Bruce, hear me out! I know you said the other Lords--"

"That's out of the question." He sounded just like Batman. 

Wally put a hand on Bruce's arm and watched how Bruce couldn't seem to look away from the contact. "You said you trust me," he tried, voice low. "That I'm the one you trust more than anyone." 

Bruce put his free hand over Wally's. He seemed entirely unconcerned that they were standing in a corridor in the watchtower in plain view of anyone who might walk by. Wally felt his face burning red beneath his cowl, could tell the flush was creeping down his neck. Bruce's entire focus was on him. He didn't seem inclined to offer it to anyone else. "It's an unnecessary risk. I can't risk you like that."

"Not unnecessary," Wally spoke into the space between them. The distance closed without his notice. When had Bruce stepped forward? When had Wally? "They can change," he insisted. "You did. I know our friends are still in there. They just need a reminder."

Bruce's mouth quirked up. "And I suppose you think you're the one to do the reminding."

"It worked on you, didn't it?" Wally said, cheeky.

"It did." Bruce's voice didn't have a trace of humor in it. "But if something goes wrong--"

"You'll be right there with me." Wally finished for him, "like the control freak you are."

"I don't like this."

"I know."

"I shouldn't allow it."

" _Bruce_."

"I think we're both going to regret this," Bruce muttered. "But we can try it. _Just_ this one time."

Wally couldn't stop himself. He threw his arms around Bruce, squeezing him tight. The cowl felt rough against Wally's exposed lower face when he pressed it into Bruce's neck. "Thank you," he said, though the words didn't express the extent of what he felt, not even close. Bruce _listened_ to him, trusted him. He didn't treat Wally like a kid, like he wasn't responsible enough or mature enough or _whatever_ enough to contribute when the stakes were high. He felt Bruce slowly unfreeze, his thick arms looping around Wally. He pulled Wally closer. Neither of them moved away, simply existing in that space. 

"Well don't you two look cozy."

Wally startled at John's words, the unnatural loudness of them. When Bruce released him and stepped away, Wally felt bereft. 

"Lantern," Bruce said, all business.

John stepped between Bruce and Wally and crossed his arms over his chest. "Lord Batman," he said coolly. 

"We were just talking," Wally said, looking back and forth between John and Bruce. What the hell was the deal? 

"Didn't look like it." John's eyes glowed. 

Wally grabbed John's arm, tugging him back. "What's your deal? Bruce is on _our side_!"

"No, kid. Lord Batman is on his own side. Always has been, always will be."

Bruce didn't react, not in any obvious way, but Wally could tell he was withdrawing, could see him going cold. "If we don't trust our own team, we're going to fail. And I _do_ trust him, John."

"Trust isn't the word for it. Wally--"

Wally pushed past John. He wouldn't listen to Wally, never did. "We were kind of in the middle of something," he snapped, grabbing Bruce's arm. He pulled him down the corridor, ignoring John calling after him.

"He's right, you know. You do trust too easily."

"I don't," Wally ground out. He didn't let Bruce go. "I trust my friends. Like a friend is _supposed to do_. But none of them trust me! Every single one of them thinks I'm--" Wally stopped. He let Bruce go. "Never mind. Look, Bruce, I'm serious about what I said. I think this is the best option. Having the other Lords on our side would make a huge difference. I know it will."

"It _would_ make a difference," Bruce allowed. "But the League isn't going to let us do it."

"That's why I don't think we should tell them. Hear me out," Wally insisted at Bruce's frown. "We'll tell them after we do it. That way it doesn't matter."

"I don't think that's going to go over well."

"Probably not," Wally admitted, "but I can't wait around for them to decide my idea is worth exploring."

At that, Bruce smirked. "I can't argue with that logic."

"So we're...still good?"

"We need to go somewhere private."

"You don't have the tech set up at a specific location?"

Bruce shook his head. "The portal technology only exists in my universe. I have a link to it that I keep with me. We can teleport from anywhere, but the watchtower has too much security. The League would think I double-crossed them."

It hadn't occurred to Wally what a risk Bruce was taking by bringing Wally over to his universe. But Bruce was still willing to go along with it. 

"Would my apartment work?" Wally asked. Bruce had been there before. They could zeta down together, hopefully without drawing much attention. 

"As well as anywhere else," Bruce said. He still wasn't enthused by the idea, but Wally would take what he could get.

Orion was running the zeta transport when Wally led Bruce there. "Causing trouble again?" he asked, eyes sliding from Wally to Bruce.

"Do I look like I'd cause trouble?" Wally puffed out his chest. Orion did not look amused. Wally deflated. "I'm just taking Bats here to the Flash museum. Turns out there isn't one in his world!"

"What a shame," Orion said. He entered coordinates into the console. "You have fun with that."

The light from the zeta beam flashed. Wally and Bruce appeared in the alleyway nearest the museum.

"Was that the best excuse you could come up with?"

"Kind of, yeah," Wally admitted. "I'm not so good at the whole subterfuge thing."

"Imagine my surprise," Bruce said, dry. "Let's get going."

Wally didn't pause. He grabbed Bruce and zoomed them to his apartment, coming to a stop in his living room. It was dark and cold.

"I think they shut off my power," he said, flipping the light switch on and off. "Yep."

"I still think you should speak to someone in the League about this. They could help, Wally."

Wally felt himself go stiff. "Maybe." He shook the feeling off. Focus. They had a world to save. Maybe even two of them. "So how do we do this?"

Bruce pulled out a small circular device and attached it to his chest. "Ordinarily this is meant for one person, but if we're standing close enough, it should pick us both up."

Wally didn't like the sound of that _should_ , but his concerns went silent when Bruce stepped closer and wrapped his arms around him. "Oh," he said. 

"It's sending a message to the main portal system," Bruce explained. "It should be just a few more seconds."

"No, it's fine," Wally stammered. He wrapped his arms around Bruce's middle and closed his eyes, letting his forehead fall on Bruce's shoulder. 

Bruce held him a little tighter. The device on Bruce's chest lit up between them, emitting a low pitched squeal, like a radio trying to acquire signal. When Wally felt it pull him and the room spun out of focus around him, he still didn't care. Bruce felt solid against him, warm and real. Caring about anything else felt unimportant.

The world around them refocused. The device went quiet. Wally didn't move, could barely bring himself to breathe. Bruce leaned down, his face pressed to the top of Wally's head for the briefest moment, then he stepped back. Wally looked at him, then at his surroundings. 

They were in the batcave, he realized. They'd made it. 

Wally was going to see the Justice Lords.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and comments! I really do appreciate every single one! I've been looking forward to writing this chapter since I first did the outline for this fic so I'm super excited to actually post it.

On the outside, the supermax prison the Lords were kept in looked like a simple two storey cement building. Its remote location in the middle of nowhere Montana was a pretty good tipoff that it wasn't what it seemed.

Not to mention the ten miles of security checkpoints just to get to the building.

Bruce had Wally run them to the nearest town where he'd bought property for when he needed to stay close. Bruce called ahead to inform the warden of what he needed. They drove from there, the windows rolled up and the heat cranked as high as Wally could get it. He _hated_ the cold.

"It doesn't look very big," Wally said doubtfully when Bruce parked the car. 

"It's supposed to look insignificant. There's ten levels underground."

"Just for the Lords?"

Bruce shook his head. "Amanda Waller originally designed this facility to house metahumans too dangerous for Belle Reve. It was simple to adjust the original design for the Lords. Right now, they're the only ones here, but it's prepared to hold others if necessary."

"Do you usually come here out of uniform?" Wally felt naked stepping into a building attached to Waller without his cowl. He tugged at the sleeves of the black coat Bruce gave him, nerves setting in.

"Wayne Enterprises is the main backer for this facility. I'm expected to have some level of personal involvement. And Amanda already knows who we are, Wally. She always has."

"You're kidding." Wally stopped halfway out of the car and stared at Bruce over the top of it, mouth hanging open. "The _whole time_?"

"She's good at what she does. The best." Bruce shut the door and gestured for Wally to follow him. 

The snow lay thick on the ground. Their footsteps crossed over car tracks and what looked like paw prints as Wally followed Bruce to the single steel door. Even as a civilian, he moved like Batman, and dressed as he was in dark slacks and a black coat, his silhouette didn't look that different. Bruce leaned down and let the monitor beside the door scan his retinas.

"Bruce Wayne. Access granted," the computer informed them pleasantly. The thud of locks disengaging shook snow from the overhang above the door. Wally shook his hair to get it out, then brushed his fingers over Bruce's collar. Bruce raised an eyebrow at him but didn't seem to mind.

"Mr. Wayne," a guard greeted Bruce as soon as they were through the door. He looked at Wally but did not otherwise remark on his presence. "Any weapons on you?"

"Not today." Bruce pulled out his phone and keys, setting them in a tray, before stepping through the scanner and into the next room. Wally left everything in his apartment and the Flash suit back at the house. He pulled his pockets inside out and showed the guard before stepping through.

"They're kept isolated from one another," Bruce said as they stepped into the elevator. "So you'll have to see them one at a time, ten minutes each."

"Right." Wally's stomach flip-flopped. Ten minutes was barely enough time for small talk. For all that he'd been gunning to do this since Lord Superman arrived in his world, he was suddenly afraid. What if they didn't listen? What if they didn't care at all? "Who am I seeing first? Diana?"

"Diana won't see you. She refuses all visitors. I sent a message ahead of us to give her the options, but she made it clear she had no interest. You'll start with J'onn." The elevator came to a stop. Bruce punched in a code, and the doors slid open. "Don't expect much from him. He hasn't responded well to losing access to his telepathy."

Wally was disappointed he wouldn't get the chance to try talking Diana around, but he'd take what he could get. "Makes sense. Is he really angry?"

"No, not angry. He's not much of anything these days."

"If they agree to help, can you undo it?"

"Undo it?"

"The power disruptor," Wally clarified. "Like with Superman. Can you give them their powers back?"

Bruce grimaced. "In theory. I have a prototype created but not tested. I can't get the longevity of Luthor's disruptor. But undoing it should be simpler than disrupting. Again, _in theory_. I'm not convinced this is the best option."

"It is," Wally insisted. It had to be.

At the end of the hall, Bruce punched in another code. The door slid up and revealed a wide room with a clear containment cell in the center. It looked identical to the one Bruce had been kept in on the watchtower. J'onn sat on the bench in it. He didn't react to Wally and Bruce's arrival.

Bruce hung back, leaning against the wall. "Go ahead."

There was a chair in front of the cell. Wally sat down and waited. J'onn didn't so much as twitch. "Hey," he began. "It's been a while, J'onn."

Nothing. No response. J'onn was looking at Wally, but Wally couldn't deny that was probably just because Wally sat in his direct line of sight. He didn't seem to know Wally was there.

Wally twisted around to look at Bruce. Bruce shook his head. "J'onn, I know you're still in there," Wally tried. "I know you can hear me. I'm _sorry_. I'm so sorry this happened. There had to be a better way." Wally waited.

Nothing.

Torture. That's what was being done to J'onn. How long had it been? At least a year, assuming time passed the same in both universes. J'onn had been stuck in isolation, both physical and mental, for at least that long. Wally's stomach turned. 

"I--I can't do this." He shot to his feet and sped to the door, appearing next to Bruce. "Bruce, he's--"

Bruce put a hand on his lower back and steered him out of the room. "I know."

"How long? How long has he been like this?" Wally demanded. "This can't be the best you can do!"

"Three months in, he stopped responding to external stimuli. I… I couldn't have predicted this, when we used Luthor's disruptor. Cutting him off so suddenly had a much stronger impact than I expected." Bruce leaned against the wall, running a hand over his face. The lines around his eyes seemed deeper, the weight of his world aging him before Wally's very eyes.

"If you undid it," Wally said, "gave him access to his powers, what then?"

"He's the last Martian. I don't have any info on how to handle psychic wounds, not of this extent. I'd have to find a telepath. Someone who might understand what he's going through."

"Would you?" Wally pressed. He couldn't shake the image of J'onn's blank face. He'd had a hand in doing that to his friend. Wally wasn't blameless. He needed to help. "If we can make this work? I can't leave him like that, Bruce."

Bruce exhaled, a long and slow breath. "If the others agreed to help, I could do it. But not alone. If it went wrong, J'onn could undo everything Earth has achieved since putting the Lords away."

"They'll help. Seriously, Bruce. I know them. They _will_."

"People change," was all Bruce had to say about that.

They stood in the hall for maybe another fifteen minutes, Wally nearly vibrating with nerves. Bruce stood close enough that their sides pressed together, the solid warmth of him an anchor for Wally. When Bruce's phone chimed, Wally read over his shoulder.

"They put John in there?" he asked. Seeing J'onn in that cell, unresponsive and alone, had shaken Wally in a way he hadn't expected. If John was the same, if he looked right through Wally like he wasn't there, eyes blank and face slack…. 

"They prefer to maximize security in one area. Rotating them through here is the best method. I've met with them this way."

That caught Wally off guard. "You did? I thought you didn't speak to them."

Bruce grimaced. "I tried to. They weren't especially receptive." He unlocked the door with his passcode again and gestured for Wally to go in. "John won't react well to seeing me. Seeing _you_ is going to unsettle him enough for one day, I think. I'll wait out here."

Wally paused, halfway through the door. "Don't go anywhere."

Bruce smiled, a barely there tilt of his lips. "I won't."

Wally stepped through, and the door slid shut behind him. John sat in the cell, like J'onn before, but with a difference: he was looking directly at Wally.

Relief hit Wally so hard his knees almost buckled. John was okay. John wasn't a vegetable. 

"Hey, GL," he greeted, taking a seat. "Long time no see."

John crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn't wearing his ring, Wally noted. His eyes were dark, without a hint of emerald light. "Where'd the Bat snatch you from?" His tone was brisk. 

"Uh, he didn't _snatch_ me from anywhere. I wanted to come."

"You're the Flash that helped put me here," John guessed. He snorted. "I should've known. And now you're back to, what, gloat?"

"No way!" Wally tried to scoot his chair closer to the cell, but it was bolted to the ground. "I wanted to see how you guys were doing. I didn't---I don't know man," Wally admitted, slumping. "I figured you'd be out of here by now."

"And how the hell would I do that? Dig through cement?"

"I mean, back with the Justice League. Back to normal." 

John's eyes narrowed. "You still don't get it, kid. What we did for you." He shook his head. "We did the only thing we could do when Luthor killed you. You did get that, right? He murdered you. And _televised_ it."

Wally knew Luthor killed him, but the rest was news to him. "Why? He could have gone after any of us--"

"But he didn't," John cut him off. "He went after you. And we had to get him back. Make him pay."

"Yeah, I noticed that." Wally ran a hand through his hair, feeling inexplicably tired. He'd assumed that once he got to the Lords, the words he needed would just well up in him, like magic. Wally hated being wrong. "But why the rest of it? Why go full super villain? People trusted you, John!"

John slammed his fists against the cell wall. Wally jolted back, half out of his seat without realizing it. "We kept them safe! We virtually ended crime, Wally! We did it for you!" He sat back, the anger in him simmering below the surface. The tension written into every line of his face made Wally's heart ache. This was _John_ , one of his best friends. 

"Would you do it differently?" In the calm after John's outburst, Wally's voice sounded unnaturally loud. "If you had the chance to do it over."

"No point in thinking about that now," John said. "I'm stuck here. I'll probably die here. Batman doesn't give a damn what happens to us now that he thinks he's fixed the problem."

"That's not true. He wants to let you guys out! If you'd just--"

"Just what?" John demanded. "Go begging for a second chance? He stabbed us in the back. Why should any of us trust him?" He shook his head and stood up. "Forget it. We're done here."

Wally jumped to his feet. "Wait, John, listen!"

But John had already turned around and started pounding on the opposite wall of the cell. At the far side of the room, a door Wally hadn't noticed opened and several armed guards stepped out. One of them gestured at Wally to leave, but he couldn't unroot himself from where he stood. He watched John hold out his wrists and accept the restraints with a passive resignation that looked utterly alien on John. 

"I still believe in you," Wally called after him. "I know you're angry, but he needs you, John. Don't forget that."

John looked over his shoulder at Wally, then faced forward, shaking his head. The guards led him out of the room, the door sliding shut behind him.

"That could have gone better," Wally muttered.

"It could have gone worse."

Wally jumped. "When did you--"

"I received an alert when the guards arrived early," Bruce said. He held out a styrofoam cup to Wally. "Coffee, extra cream and sugar. You look like you need it."

Wally took it, sipping from the cup. "Thanks. I guess I was overconfident, huh?"

"Not exactly. You got more out of John than I have in at least a year. You were never going to convince him in one ten minute visit." Bruce ushered Wally out of the room and back into the hall. "You know who's next. You don't have to see her today."

"I'm afraid if I leave without seeing her I'll lose the nerve," Wally admitted. He felt warmer with the coffee in his system, but his hands were shaking. Seeing Shayera in the same conditions as John terrified him. He thought he'd rather fight Lord Superman.

"We can go back to town, stay the night. There's nothing wrong with taking a breather."

"That's rich coming from you," Wally pointed out. He tossed the empty cup in a nearby garbage can. "Someone from my world might notice we're missing."

"It is a risk," Bruce agreed, his expression giving nothing away.

"If the League catches on to what we're doing, it'll cause you a lot of problems."

"It will."

"I don't want to make things more difficult for you."

"They're plenty difficult already," Bruce said dryly. "I can't imagine anything you do can make it much worse. They might put me back in isolation, but they won't leave me there. Until they deal with the rogue Superman, they need me. That being said," Bruce leaned closer, "I don't mind whatever happens. I said I'd do this for you, Wally. I intend to follow through."

Sometimes, Bruce's attention overwhelmed Wally. In that moment, those cool eyes focused so intently on him, Wally felt lost, unable to anchor himself. He didn't think he could refuse Bruce anything, so Wally figured it was just as well that Bruce was much more interested in giving. "I'll see her now. I _want_ to see her now," Wally decided. He didn't put any space between himself and Bruce, wanting to enjoy the closeness while it lasted. 

"As long as you're certain." Bruce tapped out something on his phone before sliding it back into his coat pocket. "They're bringing her now. I'll wait outside, like before."

"She doesn't like seeing you either?" Wally guessed.

"That would be one way of putting it."

Sooner than Wally expected, Bruce's phone chimed, notifying them that the transfer was complete. When Wally opened that door, he'd see Shayera. He clenched his fists at his side and reminded himself to breathe.

"I'll be right here," Bruce said again. He tapped the code to unlock the door but hesitated to actually open it. "You're sure?"

"I'm sure." Wally swallowed audibly. "Open it."

The room when Wally stepped back inside was just as he'd left it. Shayera sat in the cell, her eyes riveted on Wally. He felt frozen in place for a brief moment, but eventually his body remembered that walking was a thing. He moved on autopilot to sit down in front of her.

Shayera, beneath the harsh lighting, looked paper white, the bags under her eyes dark and heavy. The gray jumpsuit didn't do much for the walking corpse impression she had going on. 

Wally felt sick.

"It's really you," she said, voice wavering at the bed. 

Wally put a hand on the clear wall and tried to smile."Yeah, Shay. It's really me."

She put her hand against his and closed her eyes, a shudder tearing through her. She wrenched her hand away. "But not my Wally."

"Of course I am," Wally couldn't stop himself from saying. "What's alternate universes between family?" Not that it did him any good. He could see Shayera withdrawing, throwing a wall up between them. 

"What do you want?" she asked, the vulnerable note gone from her voice. Her hands rested on her thighs, her back rigid and her wings drawn close to her body.

"To talk," Wally tried. "Bruce came to my universe--"

"Of course he did," Shayera snarled. "He lost his useful puppets in this world, so he needed to look for untapped resources."

"It's not like that, Shay."

"Don't call me that," she demanded. "You don't know me. You're not the Flash I knew."

"Maybe not the same one," Wally said, wounded, "but I know he felt the same as I do about you. I don't care what universe you're from. And Bruce," he ignored the way she visibly bristled at the name, "only came to my world because Lord Superman showed up first!"

_That_ seemed to surprise her. "Clark? Our Clark? He got out?"

"I didn't realize you didn't know. But yeah, he did. He keeps trying to kill me." 

"You?" Shayera hadn't seemed to recover from the first revelation. "Why would he go after--" She broke off, her lips going thin. "Actually, that's not surprising. He wasn't completely there in the end."

"If by not there, you mean bugfuck crazy, then yeah. I agree."

"He blamed you," Shayera explained. "First for dying and forcing his hand. Then for sending us here. He pinned it all on you."

That was...somewhat concerning. But it certainly explained Lord Superman's aggressive fixation on him. "Do you?"

"Of course not," Shayera said. "I'm not insane. All of this is down to Luthor. If we'd killed him to start with, you'd still be here. Everything would be normal."

"I wouldn't have gone for that," Wally reminded her. "I don't have it in me, Shayera."

Shayera didn't say anything for a long moment. Wally knew the minutes were counting down, but he couldn't bring himself to rush her. There was no telling how long it had been since she'd gotten to speak to someone who wasn't a guard.

"Why did he send you here, Wally?" she asked at last.

Wally knew immediately who she meant. "He didn't send me, Shayera. I swear it! I had to beg him to come here, but I knew I had to see all of you."

"And what good did you think it would do?" She sounded so tired. Wally wished he could touch her, wished the cell wall wasn't between them.

"I need you, Shayera, all of you. We can beat Lord Superman together. There's no reason to leave you in here! I know you're all good. I _know_ it." Wally rushed the words out, afraid she'd stop him if he didn't, afraid he'd run out of time. He needed her to know, to understand.

"How can you say that? You know what we did. We nearly did it to you!'

"I don't care," Wally said. "There's nothing you could do that I wouldn't forgive. And I know the me that lived here felt the same. I can promise you that."

The door behind the cell opened. Shayera didn't flinch at the sound, barely seemed to notice it. They'd run out of time. 

"Shayera," Wally tried, but the words died in his mouth. Shayera's hand was over her eyes, her body shaking. Wally felt frozen again. He couldn't seem to say anything else. He just...watched the guards take her. 

Wally sat in the room alone, the cell empty. "I think I made things worse," he said when he felt Bruce's presence behind him. A hand fell on his shoulder, squeezing.

"I very much doubt that. Come on, you're freezing, Wally. Let's get you out of here."

"She looked terrible. But she looked worse when she left." He'd never forget the way she looked in that last moment. 

"Prison isn't a good look on anyone. I'm sure you gave them all a lot to think about." 

Had he really though? On the ride back to town, Wally felt like he'd driven them further away. He'd wanted so badly for them all to just decide to be good again, to want to work with Bruce. He wanted to know they'd all be safe and happy when Bruce eventually had to return to his own world. 

Maybe he was wrong for trying. Maybe Bruce had the right idea all along.

Bruce put the car in park in front of the house. It sat on the edge of town, about half an hour from the prison, but at least five miles from the nearest residence. Wally hadn't had more than a few minutes when they first dropped in, just enough time for them both to change. Now he followed Bruce inside, his own hunger finally breaking through the stupor his visit had left him in.

"I guess we should run back to Gotham," Wally said. 

Bruce took his coat off and slung it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. He'd turned the heat on when they first arrived, and now the house actually felt livable rather than like a very large freezer. "Actually I thought you should eat first."

Wally's stomach chose that moment to let out a loud rumble. He laughed, his face dusting red. "I guess that's not a bad idea!"

"We can order something in." Bruce had his phone out. "Any requests?"

"Does ubereats actually run in the middle of nowhere?" Wally asked skeptically, looking over Bruce's shoulder.

"You'd be surprised." Bruce looked at Wally, startled when their noses brushed. 

Wally didn't move. "Hi there."

Bruce's thumb continued to scroll mindlessly across his screen, but his eyes were on Wally. "Hello," he said, cautious.

They were in the middle of nowhere in an alternate universe. No one would know, Wally told himself, if he just… moved a little closer. 

He moved around Bruce, the man's eyes following him until he stood in front of him. Wally, very slowly, kissed Bruce, a chaste, closed mouth press of lips. "Thank you," Wally said, pretending his voice didn't break, "for letting me try."

Bruce dropped his phone. He ignored the loud clatter in favor of winding his arms around Wally, pulling him closer. "I wouldn't have," he said, kissing Wally again like he couldn't stop himself. "I never would have tried."

Maybe Wally knew that. He couldn't say for sure. All he knew was that he was hungry and tired and sad, and Bruce had been nothing but wonderful to him. Bruce cared about him. He didn't doubt that in the slightest. "That's okay," he said, nipping at Bruce's lower lip. "I did it for you."

It just felt so easy, wrapping himself up in Bruce, kissing him with a desperate edge. _Bruce_ felt easy, an openness in him that Wally had tried and failed to find in Batman. They were such different men.

When Wally's stomach again protested its emptiness, Bruce laughed. He broke the kiss, pressing his forehead to Wally's. "You need to eat."

Wally made a disgruntled sound. Sure, he needed to eat to live, but this was pretty nice too.

Stooping down, Bruce grabbed the phone and unlocked it, pushing it at Wally. "Pick something. Order it. We have all night, Wally. I'm not going anywhere."

"I'm holding you to that," Wally said, taking the phone. Eventually, they'd have to return to Wally's universe. There was work to be done. Whether he'd made an impact on the Lords was yet to be seen. 

For now, Wally contented himself with ordering a shit ton of Chinese food and watching Bruce watching him. They did, after all, have all night.


End file.
